


The Fire Within

by felisblanco



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Firefighters, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Police, Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2006-10-10
Updated: 2007-08-25
Packaged: 2018-10-20 16:15:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 43,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10666266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/felisblanco/pseuds/felisblanco
Summary: Man, I suck at summaries.  Liam is a fireman, Spike is a rookie cop.  One is out, the other not.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Be warned, this story is a WIP and even if I do plan to finish it some day it's been 10 years since I updated so... Just wanted you to know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to [](http://felisblanco.livejournal.com/438580.html#)[woman_of](http://felisblanco.livejournal.com/438580.html#) for the read over. *snogs*

As they got closer to their destination, sirens wailing, lights flashing, he felt his heart start beating faster in his chest. It always did, whether it was from excitement or fear he wasn’t sure. All he knew was that those last moments before the fight - because in his mind it was never a game or just a job but a fight, or more accurately a war that had to be won at minimum cost - those last moments, he felt more real than ever. Like all the crap in his life, all his inner demons and nightmares, all his fears, his secrets, all his insecurity, none of it mattered. Up against The Beast it all went away and all that was left was what he was, not who he was.

“Ok, guys. Coming around the corner now. Get ready.”

His body tensed, itching to move and as soon as they slowed down he was up, jumping off the truck before they came to a halt. The clothes that the first years had felt so heavy seemed like a second skin to him now. The helmet like moulded to his head. It was all a part of him. It was him. Without this, his costume, he was nothing. Not even a man.

Even if they’d been warned, the enormity still shocked him for a moment before he managed to push those feelings away. A crowd had already assembled, held back by the boys in blue, the flames flickering in their eyes. It always amazed him, this fascination with potential death. Like watching strangers die would somehow keep themselves safe. He didn’t understand it, in fact he loathed it, and more than once he’d felt the urge to grab one of those fucking idiots and shove their face into the smouldering skin of what used to be a human being, asking them, “Is this close enough? Got your thrills? Does this blackened corpse of a child make you feel immortal?”

Those were the kind of thoughts Dr. Gillian said he had to learn to control. In other ways than with booze and drugs and fucking hookers up against the walls in dirty alleys.

Well, what the hell did she know anyway?

He pushed past the traumatised families, shivering under blankets, stinking of smoke. They were the lucky ones. The ones that had woken up, the ones that lived on the lower floors. He had no time for them, they would live. Eight stories up someone hadn’t been that lucky. According to the cops there had been screaming and even if they knew there was no way they could reach whoever was in there, the silence that followed was even worse. The top three floors were engulfed in flames, if anyone else had been up there they were far beyond salvation. A body lay on the pavement, covered up by a blanket. He ignored that too, silently thankful he hadn’t been there to see the jump.

He hated these streets. Shit houses, uninsured and unsafe. Usually they had no fire detectors and no alarms and often enough when the LAFD finally got the call it was too late. It was like whoever built these houses had decided to use as inflammable material as they could get their hands on. The politicians promised to take action every time election was up but as soon as they had their precious positions they forgot. Three fires in the last six months. There was speculation of a serial arsonist but so far the M.O. had been different each time. Not that it proved anything. Not that he cared. Let the police do their job, he had enough with his own.

Someone grabbed his arm as he was about to enter the house and he turned around, raising the mask from his face in irritation. “What?” It sounded more like a growl than a word.

She looked scared, much more frightened than she should have been after ten years on the job. “My partner. He’s in there. We were first at the scene and we saw a kid up on the fourth floor and were trying to…” She swallowed. “He ran ahead and then I lost him in the smoke. He never came out.”

“Jesus, Kate! Old Joe? He got a fucking death wish?”

“Joe retired last week. Please, Liam. He’s just a stupid rookie kid and he refused to listen to me. You’ve got to find him.”

“Oh great. Your brave little idiot got a name?” His mask was already back on.

“Will. His name is Will.”

The heat was suffocating and the smoke so thick he could only see about a foot in front of him. His team was already spreading out; some making sure the lower floors were already empty while others moved up the staircase in search of people or bodies on those floors that were still accessible. Cursing he headed up to the fourth floor, Gunn straight behind him. He opened the door cautiously, the heat of the flames hitting him instantly. It was already running along the ceiling as well as down the walls at the end of the hall. There would be flames inside some of the apartments as well. There were six doors. Three open, three closed.

They moved systematically through, checking each of the apartments, Liam’s muffled shouts of Will’s name through the mask deafened by the crackling and creaking sounds of the house being devoured by The Beast. He heard Gunn shout and turned around. He was carrying a young unconscious woman, quickly signalling that apart from her the apartment was empty before heading downstairs to give her over to the men further down. He would return in a moment but Liam knew he didn’t have time to wait and he carried on, knocking down doors to check for residents and a stupid young boy named Will.

He was at the last one, Gunn already hurrying up to join him when he heard the strangled cough. He rushed in, Gunn right behind him, shouting for whoever was there to speak up. Liam spotted him first, half covered by a wet smoking blanket, trying to shield something that was cradled in his arms. He’d obviously been overcome by the smoke and fumes, possibly lost his direction as his eyes were blinded by the heat. Liam rolled him over and handed the small child in his arms over to Gunn before throwing the young man over his shoulder and together they pushed through the smoke, the flames already becoming far too intimate. What he assumed was the bedroom and kitchen were already engulfed in flames and he knew if anyone else was in there it was far too late for them. He just hoped there wouldn’t be crispy remains to dig out of the rubble once the fire had been subdued.

There was an explosion and something hit him hard in the side, making him fall to his knees but he didn’t stop to check, just got back on his feet and kept his gaze on Gunn’s broad back, trusting him to find the way out. He felt faint as he descended the stairs but he didn’t let go of the limp body until the paramedics pried it from his arms. Then he ripped of his mask, gasping for clean air and suddenly he felt a searing pain in his left side. He looked up to see the young blond cop lying seemingly dead on a stretcher and he blinked as he tried to stay conscious. Jesus, that boy. He looked just like…

Then everything went black.

\--------------

“You are one lucky son of a bitch, you know that? You scared the shit out of us.” Gunn popped another grape into his mouth and shook his head. “A fucking hole in your side and you don’t even notice? What crack were you on?”

Liam chuckled then grimaced as the movement stretched his stitches. “Don’t you know I’m fucking Batman? I’m invincible. Nothing can kill me.”

“That’s Superman. Batman can be killed very easily.” Gunn mimicked a shot to Liam’s head.

Liam scowled. “Don’t like Superman, he looks dumb. With or without his costume. Batman is much cooler.”

“Telling you, he’d be dead. You could be Spiderman. Although I don’t think he’s invincible either.” Gunn frowned.

“Whatever, it takes more than a tiny hole in my gut to do me in. I’m fine.” He lay back on the pillows, his pale face contradicting his words. He was silent for a moment, staring at the ceiling as Gunn ate his way through the basket of fruit the department had sent over.

“How are they?” His voice didn’t sound half as casual as he had intended.

Gunn looked up. “The girl’s legs are badly burned but she’ll be all right. Her parents were out on their usual night of drinking. Imagine that. Saved by alcoholism.” He paused, studying Liam’s face. “Her guardian angel though… He’s still unconscious. The fumes probably fucked him up. He obviously got hit in the head with something, got a nasty cut above his eye. Second degree burns on his hands… Other than that he actually looks okay.”

Liam let out the breath he hadn’t realised he was holding. “The doctors think he’s in a coma?”

“Don’t think so. Just got lot of poisonous shit in his system. Asbestos and all that crap. Fuck, I hate that neighbourhood.”

“Yeah, I know. Me too.”

They fell silent, Liam still staring at nothing, Gunn peeling a banana. He chomped off a large piece, then chewed thoughtfully. “You know, that rookie…”

“Will.”

Gunn nodded. “Yeah, Will. Don’t know if you noticed but he looks a lot like…”

Liam cut him off. “I know. Coincidence.”

“Maybe. Anyway, I did some asking.”

“Gunn.” His voice held a tone of warning but Gunn ignored it.

“His name is William Brent. He started two weeks ago. Twenty-three, British, moved here three years prior.”

“Gunn.”

“Lives two blocks away from you actually. Alone.”

“GUNN!” He was practically growling.

Gunn threw the banana peel in the wastebasket and looked straight at him. “And he’s gay. Apparently openly so. Doesn’t care a shit about what people say.”

Liam clenched his jaw. “I’m not going to…”

“Got beaten up three times his first year here, once by cops, but instead of giving up he decided to join them. Change the system from within or something like that. Got beaten up twice at the academy but he just kept pushing on and graduated with the highest score known.”

“So the guy’s a smartass trouble magnet. Is there a point to this?”

“Caught a renowned drug dealer on his second day. Got ambushed outside the cop bar and beaten up again on his third. Doesn’t look to good for our boy, does it?”

Liam looked away. “Not our boy. He’s not…”

“Except then he happened to resuscitate old Joe from a heart attack at his retirement party last weekend. And guess what? Half of his district has been by since last night to see how he’s doing. The boy’s got get-well cards filling his room. Who’d have thought? A gay hero in the LAPD.” Gunn raised his eyebrows and popped another grape into his mouth.

Liam ran his hand over his face, the rough palm scratching his dry skin. He suddenly felt very tired. “He’s not Bill, Gunn. He may look a bit like him but he’s not him. I don’t know this guy and I don’t want to know him. Ok?”

Gunn sighed. “I never said he was, man. But…”

“And I’m not coming out to the department. Just because one cop is a gay hero today doesn’t mean I’ll be the fire squad’s new gay champion. This is my life, Gunn, and my job is all I have now. I’m not risking it for a pretty face.”

“Bill wasn’t just a pretty face.” Gunn’s voice was soft and Liam felt the lump in his throat grow bigger.

“You have no right…” Liam swallowed. “That’s low, even for you. I would have died for him, you know that.”

“But you won’t live for yourself.” Gunn shook his head. “You can’t hide forever, you know. You can’t live alone for the rest of your life, ignoring who you are. It will kill you, man. Just like it killed him.”

“He killed himself, Gunn.” The words still shocked him, after all this time. He. Killed. Himself. It couldn’t be true, it couldn’t…

“Oh that’s fucking bullshit and you know it.” Gunn leaned back in the chair, watching him. “He didn’t kill himself, society killed him. Shame killed him.”

Liam looked away. “I killed him. My shame. My cowardice.”

Gunn sighed and reached for Liam’s hand but he jerked it away. “Liam, no.”

“No? That’s what happened. They found out about him and I couldn’t turn away quickly enough so they wouldn’t find out about me. About us. And that broke him.” He could feel tears prickling in his eyes. Shit. “Not the cold looks. Not the snide remarks. Me. I broke him. I killed him.”

“You know that ain’t true.”

“I know too fucking well how true it is. I killed him and at his damn funeral I just stood there, one of the boys, a nobody, a fucking coward. His family didn’t even know about me. As far as they know he had no one.” They were right. He was no one.

“We’ve been through this a million times, Liam.”

“And whatever you say won’t change a damn thing. Now if you don’t mind, I’m tired and I need sleep.”

Gunn held his gaze for a long time, then shook his head and stood up. “All right, man. Get some rest and I’ll check in on you tomorrow.”

“Yeah. Thanks.” Gunn was almost at the door when he added, “I’m sorry. I just can’t… And he’s not Bill.” Gunn turned around and Liam looked away. “He’s not Bill, Charlie.”

“I know. But he’s someone. And you need someone.”

“Well, he doesn’t need me. I only bring people misery.”

\--------------

They kept him for five more days before he was allowed to go home. He scowled as he struggled into his own clothes, ignoring the stabs of pain as the stitches tugged at his skin. He would need to come back in a couple of days to have them removed but it would be at least two weeks before he would be able to go back to work. Apparently he was lucky. The word made him want to laugh insanely and then punch the smiling doctor in the face. Luck had nothing to do with it. God just wasn’t finished with all the shit he’d planned throwing at him, that was all.

The door opened and he turned around, staring at the wheelchair that was being rolled into the room. Slowly he lifted his gaze and the young girl stepped back from his glare.

“No.”

“Sir, hospital policy…”

“Tell them they can shove it up their…”

“Now, now Liam.” Gunn popped his head in and smiled at the nervous girl. “Don’t be nasty to the young lady. Get your butt in that chair and I’ll wheel your weak little body out of here.”

“No. Forget it.”

“One call and I’ll have ten of the guys ready to carry you out. You want that?”

Liam flipped him the finger. “Fuck off.”

“I’ll buy you a burger on the way home.”

Liam closed his eyes in exasperation, then walked over and sat down, clutching his bag of belonging to his chest and shot Gunn a poisonous look. “A big one. And extra fries. And Coke. And I want ice cream as well.”

Gunn grinned and wheeled him out of the room. “Jeez, anyone might think you’d been living on hospital food for five days.”

“Just get me the fuck out of here.”

He unobtrusively shot glances at the numbers on the other rooms as they went by.

“He was released yesterday. Kate took him home.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Gunn only laughed.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Three days later he was going insane from boredom. Boxes of various take-away junk food were scattered around the apartment along with DVDs, books, porn magazines and more bottles of beers than he cared to count. The doctors had told him to take it easy and the captain had forbidden him to even step a foot inside the station until his two weeks of sick leave were up. Gunn had checked in on him every day but he looked tired and Liam felt bad for keeping him away from his pregnant girlfriend. Some of the other guys called but he wasn’t in the mood for talking. Wasn’t in the mood for anything. Gunn would have said he was brooding.

Irritated he scratched around his scar that was so damn itchy he had to fight not to sink his fingernails into the purple tissue and rip it open. Let it fucking bleed, what did he care? What the fuck did it matter?

He knew he was sinking into depression again. Work was the only thing that could keep that suffocating darkness away and he doubted he could hold out for eleven more days. The beer numbed the desperation but he knew he was only hours away from heading to the shop at the corner for some real booze. And once he started on that…

He was feeling light-headed from the combination of painkillers and beer. He was already half-through the pills he’d gotten even if they were supposed to last him two weeks. Well, what the fuck did those doctors know about his pain? Angry he drank down the last drops of beer then staggered to his feet to fetch a new one. The stench of something rotting hit him as he opened the fridge and he wrinkled his nose in disgust. He really should clean in here, clean this whole place, clean his whole fucking life. Should but wouldn’t. Couldn’t.

His eyes narrowed as he stared into the fridge. All kinds of stuff in there, most of it inedible, but what it didn’t hold was more beer. How did he not notice that when he took out the last one? Fuck. Fucking shit. Closing his eyes he pondered his options. Gunn might stop by but the look he gave him yesterday as he almost tripped over one of the bottles lying in front of the TV hadn’t really been that understanding. The fucking elevator was broken again so he’d have to walk down five floors, then across the street and back again, this time carrying heavy bottles. Well, if he was going to make that effort he was going to buy something a bit stronger than beer. Make the journey worth it.

He straightened slowly up, grimacing, and slammed the fridge door shut. His pyjama bottoms were stained, his t-shirt smelled of sweat and spilled beer but who was going to care? Stumbling into the hall he shuffled his bare feet into a pair of sneakers, picked up the keys and reached for the door.

The knock startled him to the point that he jumped back, hissing as the quick movement sent a stab of pain through his side. Hand trembling he reached for the knob and opened the door.

“Gunn, you fucker. You scared the shi-” He froze.

“Erm… hi.” The young man standing in the hall gave him an apologetic smile. “Someone left the door unlocked downstairs. You probably don’t remember me but…”

Liam stood still for a moment, taking in the blond hair, the blue eyes, the butterfly band-aid across his eyebrow. God, the kid was so much like Him it was chilling.

“I remember. What do you want?” His voice came off harsher than he intended but the young cop didn’t seem intimidated, just gave him a big smile and stuck out his hand, the skin still red and raw at the knuckles.

“Well, first I want to thank you for saving my life, mate. Found myself in a bit of a barbeque, yeah? Bloody fucking marvellous you finding me. Thanks a lot. I owe you one big huge favour. Anything I can do for you just name it and…”

Liam shoved a wad of money into his hand. “Go down to the corner and buy me some…” He hesitated. “… beer. Two six-packs. Then we’re even.”

The kid – William, Will, was his name, Liam reluctantly remembered - looked down at the money and blinked, then thrust it back, shaking his head. “Bugger that, it’s on me.” He turned then looked back. “Beer? You sure? ‘Cause that piss you lot have over here is just…”

“Just bring me the fucking beer.”

He slammed the door in the boy’s face and rested his forehead against the wooden surface. God, why didn’t he just tell him to piss off? Slowly he raised his head and took in the surroundings. Fucking pigsty, that’s what this was. The whole place reeked of pathetic loneliness. The moulding leftovers and empty bottles perfected the atmosphere.

Well, he wouldn’t let him in. Just take the beer from his hand, say, “Thank you, run along now,” and close the door. Feeling sick he looked himself over in the hall mirror. Oh fucking Jesus. He looked like shit. Like the fucking drunken loser he knew he was. He still hadn’t showered, his clothes were even dirtier than he’d thought, his face was grey and drawn, circles under his eyes, stubble covering his cheeks. A bum. A fucking bum.

The loud knocking startled him even more than the first time and he swung the door open so fast the boy almost fell forward. He was panting, two big bags at his feet, big grin plastered across his face.

“Jesus! Did you run?”

“Yeah. Sorta did.” Will blinked. “Probably shouldn’t have, now I think of it. With the concussion and all.”

He suddenly went white and Liam grabbed him by the shoulder, pushing him up against the wall. “Hey! Don’t you faint on me!”

“I’m all right. I’m… Maybe I should sit down for a minute?” The kid started sliding down the wall and Liam pulled him up again then dragged him in and helped him into the living room where he fell down on the couch, eyes closed. Great. Just fucking great.

Liam fetched the grocery bags – what the fuck had the boy bought to fill up two big bags? – and put them up on the kitchen table. Then he rinsed out a reasonably clean glass and filled it with cold water. When he got back into the living room Will was sitting up, rubbing his temples.

“Here.”

“What? Oh, thanks. Sorry ‘bout that.” The boy accepted the glass and took a small sip. “Been a bit wonky. Should be all right in a few days, or so they say.” He looked up at Liam and smiled. “Thanks to you. My big fireman hero.”

Liam looked away. “Yeah, whatever. Fucking stupid of you running into a burning building like that.”

Will shrugged. “I guess. Couldn’t just stand there though. Well, you know. Thought I had to at least try. Found her hiding under the bed in her room. Took a quick shower with her blanket, ran through the flames and then…I fainted like a fairy.” He twitched his lips and took another sip. “You must think I topple over all the time.”

Liam stood quiet, watching him. When Will looked up at him he shook himself awake. “She would probably have been dead if you hadn’t found her. The rooms were in flames when we got there. And the wet blanket helped keeping the heat away.”

“Yeah? Well, that makes me feel a bit better. She’s in awful pain, poor little bint. They had to do some skin grafting on her legs. Not nice, I tell ya. But once she can walk I’m taking her out for ice cream.” He chuckled. “Little Rosie has a soft spot for sweets.”

Liam blinked. “You went to see her?”

“Well, I had to, didn’t I? Promised her I’d bring her chocolate if she was good that night. Besides, hospital was bloody boring.”

Liam didn’t know why he suddenly felt so hurt. “Yeah, I know.”

Will tilted his head, then nodded. “Yeah, you’re probably in and out of it all the time. Occupational hazard, eh?” He drank another sip of water and stood up. “I should probably leave you to it. Hope I bought the right sort. Oh, and I bought you some food too.” He took a look around, finally seeming to take in his surroundings. “Or maybe you don’t cook.”

To his annoyance Liam could feel himself blushing. “Haven’t really felt up to it, no. But thanks anyway.”

The pain in his side was building up slowly but steadily and as Will turned his back on him he grabbed the glass of water and popped the pills he’d been fumbling with in his pocket, waiting for the opportunity to swallow them. There was just about enough water left to help them glide down and he breathed slowly, fighting the nausea that was rising in his throat

“Mate, are you all right? Hate to say it, but you don’t look too well.”

He opened his eyes to find Will watching him with concern. “I’m fine. Tired. Maybe you should go now?”

“Are you sure? ‘Cause you look…”

“Like shit. Thank you. Please go.”

Will grinned. “Didn’t say that. Actually you look quite different from what I imagined.”

Liam frowned. “You imagined me?” And what disturbing thoughts that brought up.

“Yeah. I dreamt you looked like Dennis Leary.” The boy laughed. “Too much TV on lonely nights, I guess. But I like the real thing better. Anyway, again, thank you.”

Before Liam had time to back away he was pulled into a tight hug. Pain shot through him, sharp like a knife and his knees gave way from under him.

“Oh fuck. Shit, I’m sorry. Are you hurt? You didn’t tell me you were hurt. Bollocks, bollocks, bollocks.”

Will’s voice sounded like murmur through the pounding in his ears. “I’m… ok. Just…need to lie down.”

“I’ve got you. In there, yeah?”

They stumbled through the door and into the bedroom where Will lowered Liam down on the bed. His whole side was throbbing with pain and he gritted his teeth.

“Let me see.”

“No! Just…” He shivered as he felt warm fingers skim over his skin and lift his t-shirt.

“Oh bloody hell! Shit! Do you need a doctor? Should I call an ambulance?”

“No. I’m all right. I’ll be all right.”

He breathed deeply, trying to suppress the nausea that was threatening to erupt. He kept his eyes closed, Will’s presence both disturbing and confusing. Only a few minutes ago he’d wanted the kid to leave but now the prospect of being left lying here alone seemed overwhelmingly depressing and just the possibility of Will staying a little bit longer flickered a feeling inside him that he thought he recognised as hope.

Oh fuck.

“Did this happen…” Light fingers danced over his scarred and bruised skin. “…you know, when you…?”

“Yeah.” His voice was hoarse.

“Oh balls. I’m so fucking sorry. Can’t believe they didn’t tell me. Stupid sods.”

“All part… of the job.”

The soft laugh made his stomach flutter.

The bed lifted as Will stood up and Liam’s fingers itched to pull him back down. “Well, since you got your belly blown open for me the least I can do is make you dinner.”

Oh god, please, yes. He opened his eyes, trying to look bored. “You don’t have to…”

“It’s no problem. Spaghetti Bolognese ok?”

Ok? It sounded like heaven. “Sure.”

“Oh good. Because it’s the only thing I can make.” He laughed again and patted Liam’s leg before heading out to the kitchen.

It was odd, lying there and listening to someone pattering around in the kitchen. He had been alone for so long that he’d almost forgotten what it was like, having someone take care of him. He smiled as a soft voice started humming some foreign tune and relaxed down on the pillows.

He’d only just closed his eyes for a second or so it seemed, when someone shook him gently awake and he blinked against the soft light.

“Hey. Dinner is ready in five minutes if you want to take a shower.”

“What? No, I…” Will quirked his eyebrow and he paused. “Yeah, sure. I’ll do that.”

“Need any help?”

Liam looked back at him sharply but there was nothing but concern in the young man’s face and he shook his head. “No, I’ll be all right.”

“Ok. But shout if… well, you know.”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

The warm water only stung a little. He hadn’t realised how much difference a good shower would do to his well being. Or maybe he had, he just hadn’t wanted that difference. Wallowing in his own misery was something he was getting good at.

He put on a clean pair of jeans and a t-shirt then made his way into the kitchen, the aroma of real food making him salivate. Will was just pouring steaming spaghetti into a big bowl and when he glanced over his shoulder with a smile Liam felt a sting in his heart by the familiarity. Not him. Not really him.

“You look better already. More colour.” Will smiled and nodded towards the table. “Sit down.”

“Yes, mom.”

Again that laughter. He didn’t know why it made him feel so happy. Maybe because it sounded nothing like Billy’s. “Smells good.”

“Dig in.” Will pulled out a chair across from him and sat down. “Should taste okay. I hope.”

“Tastes fucking great. Thanks.” He reached for his glass and only paused for a second when he saw it contained only water.

“So…” Will put another fork of spaghetti into his mouth and chewed slowly before swallowing. “Who’s the guy on your fridge? I couldn’t help noticing the similarity.”

Liam froze. Why hadn’t he remembered that photo? Not like he didn’t pretend not to stare at it every day.

“Sorry. Non of my business.”

“Bill.” He didn’t even know he was going to tell Will until it was out.

Will frowned. “No. Will, actually. Though my friends call me Spike.”

Liam shook his head. “No, not you. Him. His name was Bill. Billy.” His Billy.

“Oh. God, I’m sorry. How did…?”

“Suicide.”

Will… Spike shook his head. “Hate that. Close friend?” He rolled spaghetti onto his fork and Liam watched him put it in his mouth, sucking escaping pasta through puckered lips.

“You could say that.”

“Hmm.” Spike tilted his head as he chewed, blue eyes gazing at him. “Thought so. Feel guilty, right? Been there, done that. Finally figured out it wasn’t my fault.”

“Yeah, well. It was mine so…”

Spike shook his head violently. “No. Nonono. If someone is really set on killing themselves, they will. You can’t watch their every step, you can’t lock them up…”

“You can drive them to it though.”

Spike paused. “I guess. Maybe. I don’t know.”

Liam stabbed his fork into the rapidly shrinking mountain of food. “So who did you know who…?”

There was silence for a moment. “My mum. Pills.”

“Oh.” Liam wasn’t sure what to say. “Why?” Definitely not that.

“Because of me. Or that’s what I believed for the longest time because that’s what she kept telling me. That her whole miserable life was my fault. Having a child out of wedlock didn’t really put you high on the social list in Catholic Ireland so she moved to London before I was born. Spent her days drinking and cursing my existence. The day I turned sixteen she threw me out and killed herself.”

“Jesus! God, I’m sorry.”

Spike shrugged and gave him a small smile. “Probably didn’t help that she caught me and Stephen Miller with our pants down.”

Liam blinked. “Excuse me?”

Spike quirked his eyebrow. “Oh, like you didn’t know I was gay.”

“No, I did. It’s just…”

Spike put down his fork and sighed. “Look, for years I blamed myself. Then I finally figured out that it didn’t matter who or what I was. I didn’t make her pregnant, I didn’t choose to be born into a strict Catholic family, I didn’t make her a drunk, I didn’t turn myself gay. That’s just what happened. It’s how you deal with it that matters. She didn’t and I did.”

Liam stared at him thoughtfully. He’d never thought of things that way. He’d always felt guilty for something, being Catholic himself, and after he figured out what he was it only magnified. Billy’s death had been the final straw. He couldn’t even pass a church anymore without feeling such deep shame that he usually headed for the nearest bar.

“It can’t really be that easy.”

“Oh, nothing is ever easy. It was hell actually, still is sometimes.” Spike picked up his fork again and twirled it between his fingers. “Having good friends helps. Not that I've really made any here yet. Being openly out actually helps. People stare and whisper, some of them even curse you to your face, but being able to just look them in the eye and say “Yes, I _am_ gay, what’s it to you?” is a whole lot better than walking around with this big secret, terrified that people will find out. The things you imagine will happen are usually worse than the reality.” He put the fork down carefully. “Usually, but not always.”

“Huh.” Liam thought of what Gunn had told him. He could still see a yellow bruise on Spike’s cheek and he couldn’t help wondering if and where he had others.

“Shit, I’m sorry. You probably don’t want to hear this. I tend to do this.”

Liam couldn’t help smiling. “What? Take over people’s home, make them dinner and tell them your life story?”

The laughter lightened the atmosphere considerably. “Not the first two, no. But I do blabber on a bit. Especially with people I like.”

Liam felt his face heat up. “You don’t even know me.”

Spike dismissed that with a wave. “Don’t have to know you to know I like you.” He looked up and winked. “Don’t worry, I’m not planning on pulling your pants down.”

The water forced its way down his windpipe and he coughed violently, eyes watering, hand clutched at his side against the pain.

“Oops. Sorry. You all right?”

“Fi-ine.” He gasped for air. “Warn me next time, eh?”

“I promise. No more I-want-to-hump-your-tight-little-arse jokes.”

Liam couldn’t help laughing. It felt good despite it shaking his stomach to new pain. “You just said you didn’t want to.”

“Nah, I just said I wasn’t planning on it. There’s a difference.”

He smiled but his eyes held a glint and Liam swallowed, suddenly feeling nervous. He looked down, shoving the rests of his meal back and forth on the plate.

Spike leaned back in his chair, but Liam could feel his eyes burning on him. “So… Billy. He was a fireman?”

“Yeah. Look, can we not talk about…”

“You’d been together long?”

Liam froze.

“Look, it’s all right…”

“Did Gunn put you up to this?”

Spike frowned. “What? Who?”

“Gunn. Big black son of a bitch. Did he tell you about…” Liam looked down, jaw clenched, and pushed the chair back. “I think you better go.”

Spike just sat there, blinking, looking confused as hell. Then he slowly pushed back his chair as well and stood up. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be obtrusive. I thought…” He paused. “I didn’t realise you weren’t out yet.”

“I don’t have anything to be ‘out’ about.”

Spike stood still, blue eyes holding his, eyes filled with sympathy and understanding and a hint of sadness. “Okay. All right.” He nodded slowly then turned away. He paused briefly to look at the picture of Billy. Blue eyed, blond haired Billy, smiling lovingly at the man holding the camera. “If I didn’t know better I’d think that was me.”

“It isn’t. You’re nothing like him.”

Spike bowed his head. “No, I don’t suppose I am.” He walked slowly out into the living room, picking up his jacket from the back of the couch before heading for the door. He paused again, hand on the knob. “If you ever want to talk or would just like someone to hang out with… My phone number is on the kitchen bench.”

“Yeah, sure.” That piece of paper would hit the bottom of the garbage can as soon as the door closed.

“Okay. Obviously not.” Spike turned around and gave him a smile. “Look, it doesn’t matter to me. I just like you. You’re a nice bloke and I don’t have that many friends. The other thing? Not important. I don’t choose my friends by their sexuality. Doesn’t matter if you’re gay or straight to me.” He gave Liam a look over which sent flashes of fire to his groin. “Must say though, Billy obviously had great taste.”

He was out the door and descending the stairs before Liam had a chance to even think of an answer. Slowly he closed the door and walked into the kitchen again. The sweet smell of food made him feel lonelier than ever. On the bench lay a folded envelope, the name Spike and a number scribbled in scrawny letters across. Liam grabbed it and crumpled it up in his hand, then dropped it in the trash. He opened the fridge and fetched two bottles of beer, pinching their necks between the fingers of his left hand while his right fished out the bottle of pills from his pocket.

An hour later he retrieved the envelope out of the bin, straightened it out with a trembling hand and put it up on the fridge next to Billy’s picture.


	3. Chapter 3

_Naked bodies sliding. Bucking, moaning, gasping for breath. Oh yeah, right there. God, please. Fingers in his hair, tongue in his mouth. Cock sliding in and out of his body. So good, so good. Then thrusting, faster, harder, pounding into him. Dark brown eyes gazing down at him, filled with anger and fear and suddenly he’s scared. But he can’t stop now. Slam, slam, slamming into him, pain and such exquisite pleasure. More, more. God, yes! There, there, there!!! Ye…_

‘Rrrrrrrrring!! Rrrrrrrrrrrrrring!!’

Uh… He shook his head, trying to clear the images out of his head. What the fuck had that been about? And why the fuck did the fucking phone have to ring just as he was about to fucking come?

‘Rrrrrrrrring!! Rrrrrrrrrrrring!’

“Yeah, yeah. Bloody fucking hell.” He coughed and flipped open the cell. “Hello?”

_“Hi. Hi. It’s… it’s me. You know… Liam. I’m… Did I ever tell you my name? It’s… It’s Liam. Listen. Listen, Bi… Will, Spike. I’m… drunk. So very, very drunk and I was wondering… why, you know? Why and what for and then I was staring… I was staring at my hand and I have like sixty pills left and they look so damn small and I was just thinking… I was just thinking… why not? You know? And… And I… I… I think I’m a bit scared. I think… I think…”_

Shit. “Liam! Liam, listen to me! Go into the bathroom, throw them in the toilet and flush them down. Now.” He was already reaching for his clothes.

_“No, no. I can’t do that. I can’t… It hurts. It hurts so damn much. I need them. I need…”_

Fucking buttoned jeans. Why wasn’t there a zipper? Why? “Your wound? It hurts?”

There was silence and then a low snigger that scared him even more. Fuck. Shit. “Okay, I’m coming over. Right now. Don’t take those pills, Liam. Promise me you won’t take those pills.”

_“They’re so small. Look… innocent. That’s why women take them, right? No blood, no ugly scarring. I wouldn’t want… blood. There was so much fucking blood…”_

Oh Jesus. “Just promise me you won’t take those pills? Promise? Liam?”

_“Help me.”_

There was a click and the phone went dead. Shit.

He was trying to get his boots and t-shirt on at the same time and tripped, banging his head into the wall. It sent a soaring pain into the slowly healing scar over his brow. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

It had been five days and he’d been worried, but he’d never imagined… It was obvious Liam had been drinking for days when they met and he’d had a feeling it wasn’t just because he was pissed about being on sick leave. The guy was obviously torn up by what had happened between him and that bloke. That Jesus-did-I-just-look-into-a-mirror boy with his happy smile and his big blue eyes and god, it was so obvious what he’d been, what they had been. How the hell had Liam managed to stay in the closet for so long? How the hell could not every single mate of his know?

In his hurry to start the car he managed to drop the keys under the seat. Fuck. He fumbled around in the dark with trembling fingers, finally finding the cold metal and clutching them in his hand like they would fix everything. The car started with a roar and he mentally petted his trusted friend. She might be old, she might be rusty but when in a hitch she was hundred percent trustworthy.

The streets were deserted except for an occasional car, some cruising, others hurrying. He wondered where they were going. What brings people out at this time of night? A wife in labour? Kids searching for something to ease the itch in their blood?

A friend calling to say he’s about to kill himself?

He stepped harder on the gas, heart beating in his chest. Don’t let me be to late. Please god, don’t let me be to late. Not again. Never again.

He’d asked Kate about Liam. First scolding her for not letting him know Liam had been hurt saving his life. She said she’d told him but he’d been pretty messed up those first days and he must have forgotten. She seemed genuinely surprised so she was probably right. Made him feel stupid for not remembering even if it wasn’t really his fault. She gave him the heads up: Big strong and handsome, like he hadn’t noticed. Came originally from Boston and had some family there. Broody and quite a loner. Single. She sighed and turned the wedding ring on her finger in mock remorse.

Then he’d asked her about Billy. Didn’t tell her about the picture just said Liam had been surprised he looked so much like an old mate of his. And so she’d told him. How Billy had been one of those young cute rookies that had the girls falling all over for him. Always smiling, always laughing but she wasn’t blind, she’d seen the insecurity and sadness behind the mask. Or at least afterwards she was sure it had always been there. He’d turned to drinking, like so many of them did, especially after 9/11. She’d thought he was just scared, maybe rethinking his career choice. Then suddenly there were rumours of him being seen in “questionable” places, and Big Larry, being a stupid arrogant son of a bitch had flung it at him, asking him if it was true. “How’s that Billy, you a fucking homo?” And Billy had frozen, then looked at his mates standing grinning like the whole thing was a big joke and he’d said “Yes.”

Spike had sat up straight, impressed. “Wow.”

“I know. And according to Jesse - he’s that skinny one with the goatee, remember? - it seemed like the whole crew took a step back even if they didn’t move. And Billy just stood there, staring at them and then he said ‘Lee?’ and looked at Liam, your big hero, who was his best buddy, been his mentor from the start, and Liam just turned around and walked out. Two days later the kid was dead. Shot his brains out in his bed. Shocked the shit out of everyone.”

“I can imagine.” Now he knew what Liam had meant about driving someone to suicide. Shit.

She’d run her finger along the rim of her mug. “Think Liam feels guilty, turning on his buddy like that. Feels he should have stood by him. But he was probably just as shocked as everyone else and didn’t know how to react. Imagine knowing someone and then finding out you don’t know them at all.”

“Yeah.” Imagine that.

She’d given him a smile. “Too bad you weren’t already here. Could have helped him, you know. Seeing you not being afraid.”

Spike had looked down into his own mug. The coffee was turning cold. “Who says I’m not afraid?”

She’d stared at him then, blinking uncertainly. “You are?”

He’d given her a half smile. “A tiny little thing like me? A flaming fairy? Don’t particularly enjoy walking alone in the dark, no.”

She’d seemed taken aback. “But you always act like you don’t give a shit. About anyone.”

He’d shrugged. “Don’t care what they think. Still care what they do. Especially if it means broken bones and bruises.”

She’d blushed and stammered about those guys definitely not being from their division and no way anyone would do that ever again. He’d smiled and nodded but he wasn’t convinced. Only needed one asshole to turn things around again.

Finally he arrived at Liam’s place. He rang the bell but no one answered. Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Frantic he started pushing the other buttons until finally someone shouted at him in a hoarse voice to shut the fuck up.

“Let me in, mate. Forgot my keys.”

_“Like hell.”_

Fuck. He kept on pushing buttons until a little old lady’s voice asked him if he knew what time it was.

“Yes, I know. Please, I need to get in. My friend might be hurt.”

_“Oh dear. Who’s your friend, young man?”_

“Liam… something. Big, handsome brute. Fireman?”

_“Oh dear, oh dear. He has looked quite awful lately. Do you promise you’re not going to break in and rape someone?”_

Spike wanted to scream with frustration. “I promise. I’m a copper, ma’am.”

_“Oh, all right then.”_

“Thank you.”

He was in and running up the stairs while the buzzer was still ringing. God, don’t let me be too late. Please, oh please.

He banged on Liam’s door, but when he tried the knob the door swung open.

“Liam? Liam? Are you all right?”

Shit. Bottles everywhere. The smell of whiskey and sweat was pungent in the air and he could feel his stomach clench in fright. No one in the living room, no one in the bedroom Bathroom.

Liam was sitting on the floor, arms wrapped around his folded knees, blank face resting on top of them. He was shaking violently, his skin was sickly grey and he didn’t seem to have changed out of his clothes since Spike was there five days ago. Shit. No.

“Liam? Liam, it’s me. Did you take the pills? Liam, answer me.” He managed to pry the tight fists open and out of the right hand tumbled tiny white pills. Frantic he counted them. Fifteen – thirty – forty five - sixty. The relief rushed to his head and he felt dizzy. He gathered them up and threw them into the toilet bowl and then some paper on top before flushing it all down. “Liam? Please look at me. Liam?” He hesitated. “Lee?”

Brown glassy eyes blinked and then slowly focused on him. “Billy?”

“It’s Spike. It’s Spike, Liam. You rang me, remember?”

“Spike?” He frowned. “You told me to go to the bathroom and…”

“Yeah, and you did. Good for you. Now we need to get you up off this cold floor.” He grabbed him under the arms and started to haul him up. “Jesus, you’re freezing.”

Liam started trembling harder. “S-s-s-so cold.”

“Yeah, you are. And stinky. You need a shower, mate.” He lowered him down to sit on the toilet, keeping his head up with one hand while the other turned on the water.

Liam grunted. “Dirty.”

“Yeah.” Spike couldn’t help laughing. Liam might be drunk, he might be fucked up as hell but he wasn’t dead. And at the moment that was enough to make him smile. “And not in the good way.”

“Funny. Funny man. You… flirt. Flirting with me.”

He chuckled. “Maybe.” Off with that stinky t-shirt and… God, he was pretty.

Liam let his head fall forward, rubbing his temple against Spike’s arm. “’Cause I’m gay. So damn fucking gay.” He sobbed.

Spike crouched in front of him and tilted his head gently up, gazing into the drunk and reddened eyes. ”I know. It’s all right.”

Liam blinked, eyes wide and desperate. “Is it? Is it okay?”

Spike smiled although his heart was breaking. “Yeah. It is.”

Liam closed his eyes and started crying softly.

Feeling far out of his depth Spike brushed away Liam’s tangled and matt hair from his forehead. “Got to get you into that shower now, pet. All right?”

He loosened the jeans and with difficulty managed to lift Liam up enough to slide them from under him. Not looking, not looking. Okay, maybe looking a little. Bugger, he’d be abnormal not to. Beautiful. So beautiful and.. Jesus, the smell. Definitely not going near that one until he’s been soaped at least three times. Not that he would anyway. Not now. He wasn’t that perverted. But, bloody hell, that was one nice cock.

He shook the disturbing thoughts out of his head and stepped back. The shower was warm, all ready for Liam to… yeah, that would never work. Only hesitating slightly he started pulling off his own clothes. He dragged the t-shirt over his head and emerged, blond hair in messed up curls. Liam was staring at him open-mouthed and he blushed slightly, wondering what Liam saw when he looked at him.

“You… we gonna have sex now?” Liam blinked rapidly.

He couldn’t help smiling. “No. Not now. Just going to help you shower. Is that all right?”

Liam nodded slowly. “Yeah. That would be nice.”

It was harder than he had imagined. Liam was heavy despite his lean frame and he almost toppled over a few times before Spike managed to prop him up against the wall and told him to try keeping his legs straight. He washed him quickly but thoroughly, keeping his mind on all the unsexy things he could think of, especially while he washed the groin and backside. Not that it really helped. By the time he was satisfied with Liam being clean he was feeling increasingly dirty himself. God, it wasn’t like he was still seventeen and constantly horny. No, just twenty-five and constantly horny. He stifled a groan as Liam stumbled back, arse colliding with his cock. Ok, that was enough showering for now.

He towelled Liam dry, then dragged him into the bedroom, trying not to notice too much the stains on the sheets or the stink of booze that was all over the apartment. Guess he’d have to clean again. Liam probably hadn’t even noticed he did it last time he was here. The thought of ‘Why am I doing this for someone that doesn’t even like me?’ entered and then left his brain as soon as it got there. He owed Liam his life but that wasn’t why he was doing this.

Drying off swiftly he pulled his clothes back on and then got to work. Soon bags of empty bottles were stacked by the front door along with a pizza box and a Chinese take-out container. He could hear Liam in the bedroom, sobbing and muttering to himself. What was he going to do with him? He couldn’t really leave him alone. The pills were gone but there were knives and other sharp things and a drop from the balcony would probably kill him as well. Searching Liam’s closets for clean sheets he thought over his options. He had two days off. He could just as well spend them here as at home. The couch looked comfortable enough.

“Okay, sunshine. Roll over.” Liam groaned but complied and Spike loosened the sheet first on one side, then the other, rolling Liam back and forth, then put on a clean one the same way. Finally all those times playing nurse for his mother paid off. Before long Liam was asleep in a clean bed, drool dripping slowly from the corner of his mouth as he snored.

Spike stood watching him for a while then grabbed a blanket and an extra pillow and trotted into the living room. He stripped down to his boxers and t-shirt before lying down. Grunting with sudden exhaustion he tried to get comfortable on the couch. Wonder if it was too late to revive that dream?


	4. Chapter 4

Someone was trying to kill him. Someone was trying to smash his head in with a big fucking hammer. He tried to tell whoever it was to stop but all he could do was grunt. Then he tried to push him away but his fists only hit air. Everything hurt. He tried to open his eyes but the light burned his eyeballs. God, he couldn’t breathe!

“Sshh, it’s ok. Liam. Liam. Listen to me, you have to calm down.”

The voice sounded familiar and he stilled. Slowly he managed to open his eyes against the faint light of the bedside lamp. “Spike?”

“Yeah. It’s me.” Spike was looking down at him, looking oddly relieved. “Feeling bloody awful, I guess.”

“Wha- wha’ happened?” He tried to sit up but the room started spinning and he fell down again. “Whatcha doin’ere?”

“You called me. Remember?”

“No. Why? Why would I call you?” His voice sounded harsher than he’d intended and Spike drew slightly back, a twitch of something akin to hurt in his eyes.

“You don’t remember anything?” Yeah, definitely hurt.

“I remember whiskey.” Actually he could use a stiff one right now. “I guess I got drunk.”

“I guess so.” Spike sat still for a moment before looking up at him, hesitantly. “You called me and asked me to come because… you were feeling suicidal.”

His stomach felt like it had suddenly been dumped full of ice cubes. “What?”

“You needed someone to stop you from offing yourself.” Spike looked away. “I guess I was handy.”

“I was going to…?” An image of tiny pills resting in the palm of his hand flashed before his eyes. He stilled. “And you stopped me?”

“Yes.”

It was all coming back to him with ice-cold dread. “Why?”

Spike stiffened. “Why? Why me? I don’t know, all right? Your call, not mine.” He stood up and walked to the window. It was raining outside, a river of raindrops running down the other side of the grimy glass.

“No. Why did you stop me?” Liam closed his eyes, the pillow suffocating the wrong side of his head. “Maybe I really wanted to die.”

The sharp slap stung his cheek and his eyes flew open in shocked surprise. “What the hell was that for?”

“For being a fucking prick, that’s what. Stop that sodding self-pity and get your head out of your selfish arse.” Spike was glaring at him, shaking with anger. “Want to tell life to fuck itself? Want to shit on your friends and family? Tell them they don’t matter, that they’re nothing more than a blip on your egoistic radar? Want to be a coward like your little boy Billy? Then next time, don’t call me. Jump off a fucking bridge and be done with it.”

He stalked out of the room, leaving Liam to stare after him in shock for a moment before the words sunk in. Then he jumped out of bed, pausing for a second to keep from falling over with dizziness and stormed after Spike into the living room.

“What did you say? What the fuck did you say to me?” He grabbed Spike’s arm and twisted him around in fury. “You have no right to even mention his name, you hear me? He was a good man, the best. Don’t you dare talking about him like that.”

“Like what?” Spike glowered. “A sodding chicken, too scared to face what he was? Better to blow his brains out than admit he was a poof? A queer, a fag, a sissy, a fucking fudgepacker? Oh no, wait. That’s you. He actually had the balls to come out and you fucking crushed them.”

“You…” Liam was shaking with anger, each word cutting him like a knife.

“And now you’re feeling bad about that. Should have said something, should have walked over and said, “Guess what, I’m a homo too” and the fact that you didn’t is killing you. And so rather than admit your guilt, admit what you are, you decide to just join him. What a pair of sorry cowards you are. LAFD’s finest.”

Liam’s punch sent Spike flying across the room and he landed in a heap on the floor but instead of crumbling he just jumped back to his feet, spit blood on the wooden floor and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand.

“That feel good, yeah? Can’t hit your little boy toy because he’s dead and cold in the ground and so you hit me. Hate him, don’t you? Hate him for what he did, for what he was. Just as much as you hate yourself for what you didn’t do and what you still are.”

Liam closed in on him slowly, fists raised. “Shut up! Shut the fuck up!”

“Like you wanted him to shut up? Told your little secret, didn’t he? Was supposed to keep quiet like the nice little boy toy he was but instead he went blabbering to your mates. So you turned your back on him, left him to face the fire alone and what do you know? He blows his brains out. What a pussy.”

The second blow hit him right in the nose and he fell back against the wall, legs wobbling, blood spurting out and dripping down on his t-shirt. But still he didn’t shut up.

“Yeah, that’s it. Take it out on me. Hurt me like you want to hurt him, like you want to hurt yourself. Come on, get that rage out. Make yourself feel better. Been bottling it all up inside and it’s burning you. Let it out, Liam. Let it all out.” Spike leaned against the wall, blood running down from his nose, eyes burning. “Fucking hit me.”

Liam could feel it all, all those things Spike had said, boiling inside him. The need to punch, to hurt, was overwhelming. He wanted to feel the pain, wanted to hear bones crush under his fists, smell the blood on his tongue. With a roar he drew back his clenched fist and drove it into the wall, an inch from Spike’s head. The skin split and splinters tore his flesh. It felt good. He pummelled the wall with both fists, yelling out his anger and pain. He was hitting Billy, hitting the guys, hitting his own miserable self and with every punch he felt a little bit of his anger drain away.

He wasn’t sure how long he kept going until Spike grabbed his arms from behind and forced him away from the wall. He swirled around, ready to punch Spike for real this time, punch a fucking hole in his stomach but then he looked up into Spike’s eyes and he was crumbling down to the floor, sobs shaking his body.

“Oh god. Ohgodohgodohgod.”

“Sshh, it’s all right.”

“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

“I know.”

Somehow he knew they were both talking about Billy, not the beating. Spike was resting his chin upon his head and he could feel blood sticking to his hair. God, what was wrong with him? Who had he become?

“I don’t know what to do. Tell me what to do.”

“Well, for starters you might want to put some clothes on.”

He pulled back and looked down. “Oh.” He felt a sudden ridiculous urge to cover himself, as if he hadn’t been stalking around completely naked, beating up the man beside him. The absurdity of the situation suddenly hit him and he started giggling hysterically but they soon turned into sobs again.

“Come on. Let’s get you up.”

He let himself be pulled to his feet where he swayed for a moment, clinging to Spike’s slight frame as if he was his saviour. Which he was in more than one way. He looked down at the bloody face, which was smiling up at him.

“Thank you. And… and sorry. For hitting you.”

“That’s ok. I’ve had worse.”

Spike smiled but his words only made Liam feel worse. Spike didn’t deserve being anyone’s pummel bag, and certainly not his. “You think I broke it? Your nose, I mean.”

Spike touched it gingerly. “Nah. It’s not that bad.” He smirked. “You hit like a girl.”

“Hey!” But he found himself smiling for the first time in days.

They stumbled into the bedroom and sank down on the bed. He studied his hands. They were a bloody mess but he didn’t think they needed any stitches. He looked down at Spike who was lying on his back, pinching his nose to stop the flow. With a shudder he thought of what the kid’s pretty face would have looked like if he hadn’t at the last second taken his anger out on the wall instead. He rose to his feet and pulled a pair of boxers out of the top drawer.

“I’m going to fetch you a towel. Wait here.”

“Danks.”

On the bathroom floor lay an empty bottle of painkillers. He slowly reached down and picked it up. 100 pcs. the label said. Two pills three times a day. He’d finished the first bottle in a week and had lied that he’d dropped them in the sink to get more. He knew Dr. Moore hadn’t believed him but he’d given them to him anyway. What’s the use of having friends in the profession if they don’t do you favours? Two days later there were only 60 left. He’d held 60 pills in his hand last night and been ready to swallow them down to end his life. The realisation hit him and he just about managed to reach the toilet before he emptied what little was in his stomach into the bowl.

“You all right there, mate?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I just… Not feeling so good.”

He heard a low chuckle from the bedroom. “Really? And I thought you were a morning person.”

“Shut up.”

But he felt better already. He flushed the toilet and then ran cold water in the sink. After soaking his hands for a while he felt much better, especially seeing as the damage was even less than he’d thought. Pulling out a couple of splinters he wrapped a thin rag around his knuckles, then brushed his teeth before wetting an old towel and wringing it out. Then he walked back into the bedroom. Spike was still lying where he left him, back of his hand pressed against his nostrils, eyes closed. His t-shirt was hitched up, revealing a strip of pale skin and golden hairs. He looked... God.

Liam swallowed and held out the towel. “Here.”

“Thanks, mate. It’s slowing down though. Might even manage to hold on to a pint or two.”

“I’ll get you some o.j.” He paused. “Except I don’t think I have any. I have beer.”

Spike groaned. “Don’t think that would be such a good idea. In this state the smell would be enough to get me drunk.”

“That’s all right by me.” The words were out before he'd thought them through. What are you doing? Shut up.

“You’re only saying that so you can have your wicked way with me.” Spike laughed and swiped most of the blood of his face before throwing the towel aside.

Liam stood still. This had to be the most stupid thing he’d ever done but… He took a deep breath and reached out to run a finger down Spike’s neck. “What if I am?”

The smile dropped off Spike’s face and Liam could feel the vein pulsating under his fingertip. “Are you?”

“Maybe.”

He felt almost dizzy with conflict. Did he want Spike because of all that had happened, the proximity to his own death making him feel for once high on life? Or because the boy reminded him so much of Billy it made his heart ache? Or just because he was so damn horny after months of nothing but his own hand for company that he’d fuck a llama if it wiggled its ass at him? None of those reasons were good, in fact they were terribly stupid and unfair to Spike, but as he gazed into those blue eyes all he knew was that he wanted to kiss this kid more than anything.

“Would that be okay?”

Spike kept his gaze, his breathing slowing down to almost non-existence. He blinked rapidly a few times and bit his lip. Then slowly he nodded. “Yeah, I guess so.”

Liam let out the breath he hadn’t realised he was holding and leaned over. But as his lips were about to touch Spike’s he dodged and sat up.

“I need to clean up.” He was out of the room and closing the bathroom door behind him before Liam had time to unpucker his lips. With a frown he sat up and looked over at the closed door. Huh.

 


	5. Chapter 5

Spike leaned against the sink, keeping his head bowed as he took deep breaths to calm down. Jesus! What was he thinking?

He raised his head and stared at himself in the mirror. His face was smeared with dry blood, his lower lip was swollen and he was quite sure he would have a bruise covering his left cheek at least. The dried blood on his hands tugged at his still tender skin. That wasn’t what was bothering him though.

He didn’t blame Liam for taking a swing at him, the things he’d said had been pretty horrible but they had gotten him the result he wanted. Anger was a far better emotion than self-pity. Anger gave you strength. Anger told you the truth whereas wallowing in your own misery built skyscrapers of deceptive inability. Liam’s anger had allowed him to let loose some of all the tension inside him and that made him a lot less dangerous, both to himself and others. And that was sure worth a couple of punches.

Spike turned on the tabs and splashed his face with cold water. It stung his lip but it felt good against his flushed skin. Then he ran his hand repeatedly over his face until he’d rubbed off all the blood before reaching for a towel. Again he studied himself in the mirror. He didn’t look like he starred in some lame horror flick any more but that troubled look was still in his eyes.

What was he doing?

Okay, so he did fancy the bloke. More than fancied him, he had to admit. There was something about him that hit him right in the pit of his belly. Something… But then there was the fact that Liam was so fucking screwed up that he’d inevitably be setting himself up for heartbreak and misery if he allowed himself to see this as something more than a simple fuck. Which he just knew would happen.

Who did Liam see when he looked at him? Spike or his dead lover? Which one would he be fucking?

God, he shouldn’t do this. He should go out there and tell Liam it was off. Friendship would be great but there was no way they could…

An image of Liam naked, his thick cock resting against his thigh, flashed across his mind and he gasped as he hardened instantly.

Just a fuck. It was just a fuck.

He closed his eyes for a second and inhaled deeply.

He could use a good shag anyway.

Running his fingers through his damp hair he gave himself a final look in the mirror before going back out to the bedroom.

“Hey.”

Liam opened his eyes and looked up at him from where he was lying on the bed. “Hey. You okay?”

“Yeah. Just a bit… sticky. All clean now.” He suddenly realised how his words could be interpreted and felt himself blush. “My face, I mean.”

Liam looked at him blankly. “Right. Uh…Good.”

They fell into awkward silence. Spike wondered if maybe he should just go. He’d obviously broken the mood with his sudden bathroom break.

“Maybe I should just…”  
“You know there’s plenty of room..”

They both stopped then started again.

“How about I…”  
“We don’t need to if…”

They stopped again. Then Spike's face broke out in a smile and Liam grinned at him sheepishly.

“Come here.” Liam scooted over and tapped the bed beside him. “If we’re gonna talk we might as well get comfortable.”

Spike smiled. “If we get comfortable I have a feeling there won’t be much talking.”

But he came over anyway, lying down on his side so he was facing Liam. Their noses were only inches apart and he could feel Liam’s breath on his lips. He still smelled faintly of whiskey, mixed with Colgate.

“Listen, it’s all right. After what I did…”

Spike shook his head. “It’s not that. I don’t mind that. But…”

Liam nodded and closed his eyes for a moment before looking back at Spike. “I know you’re not him.”

“Okay.” He wasn’t convinced.

“And I know I’m probably not thinking straight, you know, with all the trying to kill myself and shit.” He blushed.

“Right.”

Liam opened his mouth to continue but closed it again. His eyes grew darker and he licked his lips. The air suddenly became very heavy and Spike had trouble breathing. He felt like he was falling into Liam’s eyes, that if he weren’t lying down already he’d topple over. How could it be that someone so mentally fragile could look at you and all you wanted was for them to take you in their arms and tell you _they’d_ protect _you_?

He swallowed. “So-”

Liam cut him off, “But I really, really want to kiss you.”

He held his breath then let it out slowly. “All right.”

His head already felt dizzy and they weren’t even touching yet. He felt the warm breath brushing his face and instinctively closed his eyes. Liam’s lips were incredibly soft as they pressed hesitantly against his. If he was afraid of hurting him or just unsure Spike didn’t know. He parted his lips invitingly and Liam’s tongue slipped in. It tickled his gum then swirled around his tongue and heating up he sucked it further in. Liam’s hands moved into his hair, tugging him closer. He let his arm slip around Liam’s waist, drawing him in until they were lying belly to belly, cock to cock.

Feeling Liam’s hardness against his was like a shock of electricity going through his whole body. His fingers curled on Liam’s back, scraping the skin with his fingernails. The kiss grew more desperate and he felt his swollen lip throb in symphony with his cock. Liam’s hands had moved from his hair and were tugging at his t-shirt and he wriggled to help him along. Regretfully he broke the kiss to pull the shirt over his head.

“God, I want you.” Liam was almost growling.

He hitched his breath. “Fuck, yeah.”

He closed his eyes as Liam kissed him again, then moved to leave a trail of kisses along his jaw and down his throat. A small gasp escaped when the soft lips grazed his collarbone and he weakly lifted his hand and laid it on Liam's shoulder pulling him closer.

“Like that?”

“Yeah.” He sucked in his breath as Liam licked along his collarbone. Always was one of his most sensitive spots. The tongue travelled down across his chest and then he felt Liam suck his right nipple into a hot and wet mouth. Oh God.

“Fuck, you taste good.” Liam moved over to the other one, biting it lightly. “Want you so bad.”

“Uhuh.” He felt like his whole body was on fire. Liam was kissing a trail down his stomach, getting closer and closer and... stopped.

He opened his eyes blearily. Liam was sitting up, staring down at him with an odd expression on his face. “You all right? Liam?”

Liam swallowed. “Yeah... fine. Just... My head is spinning.”

He suddenly went very pale and before Spike had time to move away Liam sank down on top of him. With a struggle he finally managed to roll from under Liam and sat up. “Liam? Fuck. Liam?”

Heavy eyelids fluttered open. “I don't feel so good.

“You want me to take you in? Let a doctor have a look at you?”

“No. No doctors. Just... some water.”

Spike stared at him then smacked himself up the head. “Fuck. I'm so stupid. When did you eat last?”

“Don't know. Not hungry.”

Mentally he went over the bags of trash he'd put by the door. Bottles and cans in abundance but only a couple of take away boxes. And the leftovers in those had been dried up and mouldy. “You've been living on nothing but alcohol for the last few days, haven't you?”

“Can't remember. Oh God...” Liam groaned and closed his eyes again then rolled over to his side. “I think I'm gonna be sick again.”

“No! Wait!” Spike ran out and searched desperately for a bucket or just something. In panic he grabbed a big glass bowl from the sofa table and ran in with it, putting it at the last minute under Liam's head that was hanging over the edge of the bed.

There wasn't much, Liam's stomach being already emptied almost to the wringing stage. He held Liam's forehead, skin hot and sweaty under his palm, as he heaved for breath, trembles running through his body. Finally his breathing got under control and he rolled over until he was once again lying on his back, eyes closed.

“Feel better?”

“Yeah.” He grimaced. “I'm sorry.”

“It was my fault, I just wasn't thinking. We need to get some food into you.”

“No, I can't...” Liam frowned then opened his eyes and looked up at him in surprise. “Actually, yeah. I'm starving.”

Spike smiled. “Okay then. Get dressed.”

“What? No.” Liam tugged at the covers, trying to pull them over his head but Spike caught hold of them and yanked them away.

“Think it's time you got out of here. This place stinks, mate. You need some fresh air.”

He pouted. “I don't wanna.” But he sat up anyway, feeling oddly vulnerable wearing only his boxers that right now didn't shield much of anything even if the vomiting had made his erection dwindle some.

“Stop being such a baby and get dressed. We can get waffles down at Denny's.”

Liam froze halfway out of bed. “Denny's? Our guys go there.”

Spike looked up at him as he pulled up his jeans. “Yeah. So?”

Reaching for his own jeans - man, they stank! - Liam shook his head. “Nothing. Just... maybe we should go somewhere else.”

Spike straightened up, his face blank. “Oh, I see. Can't be seen having lunch with a fag, that's it? Afraid they might tell your buddies what's what?”

Liam straightened up as well, his eyes gone cold. “I don't need that shit from you. Just because you're comfortable with being LAPD's flaming fairy and I'd rather stay on the normal side doesn't make you any better than me. This is my fucking life, man. My choice, my career and it's non of your fucking business what the hell I do.”

Spike laughed coldly. “You call this normal? Drinking yourself to oblivion, beating up people, offing yourself on pills? Yeah right. _I'm_ the odd one.” He shook his head in exasperation. “Look mate, I'm not gonna out you. You're right, it's your life and it's your choice to stay in the bloody closet. But I'm not going to hide in the shadows just so your friends don't get the “wrong” idea. I don't do that anymore.”

Liam stood still, biting his lip. “If we show up there together...”

Spike waved his hand dismissively. “They probably think I'm buying you lunch to thank you for saving my life. Blokes do that, you know, sometimes even without having the gay sex.” He sighed when Liam didn't so much as smile. “Or we can go somewhere else. What the fuck do I care?”

He tugged his t-shirt over his head, his irritation obvious and it only increased when he glanced down and saw the blotches of blood splattered across the front. He pulled it off, turning it around before once again putting it on. Liam hesitated a moment then stood up to pull a clean t-shirt from a drawer. His last one. He really needed to do some laundry. They finished dressing in tense silence, Spike's bad mood making Liam feel guilty. Was he being unreasonable? If Spike hadn't been openly gay would he even have paused at the idea of having lunch together in a place where they would be recognised? Anyone would think it perfectly normal that Spike would want to repay him in some way for what he'd done, lunch being an obvious deal. Friends went out to lunch together everyday and just because one of them happened to be gay didn't mean people would automatically realise he was too.

Spike had already pulled on his boots and was putting his coat on when Liam cleared his throat and took a step toward him. “They do have pretty good waffles at Denny's.”

Spike froze then slowly turned around and looked at him, eyes unreadable. “Yeah.”

He fidgeted, feeling oddly embarrassed. “Wouldn't mind getting some of those.”

Spike stared at him for a moment before tilting his head, a tiny frown between his eyebrows. “You sure?”

“Yeah.” He shrugged. “Why not?”

The smile that lit up Spike's face was so bright and so heartbreakingly like Billy's that for a moment Liam didn't know whether to grab him and kiss him or slam the door in his face and sink to the floor, crying his heart out. He swallowed and forced a grin to his own lips. “Come on before I change my mind.”

 

\-----------

 

Spike drove, fast but with confidence. His car was old but the way Spike stroked the wheel and patted the gear stick it was as if it was his sweet darling. When they got out and Liam slammed the door Spike shot him a glare and closed his own door carefully but firmly.

“Sorry.”

“Just... she's earned being treated with respect.”

“She?”

“Yeah? What?”

“Nothing.”

He chuckled, his worries forgotten until Spike swung open the door to Denny's and waited for him to walk in before him.

“Don't need you to hold the door like I'm some damn girl,” he hissed and grabbed the edge.

“Jeez, you are touchy.” Spike rolled his eyes and walked in, not waiting for him to follow. Quite a few cops nodded his way, some with a smile, others shooting a frown, but he just grinned and greeted every one of them with their names, inquiring about that ones wife and the other's kids.

Liam trailed behind, trying to look as casual as he could. A shout from one of the window booths made him turn his head. Shit. Larry and Harris. Great.

“Fuck, Lee. You look like shit.”

“Nice to see you too, Larry.” His stomach growled loudly and he gave the guys an apologetic look. “Sorry, no time to talk. The kid is buying me lunch. For... you know.” He hoped that sounded casual enough. “Catch you later.” He turned to walk away but Larry grabbed his arm, stopping him.

“Dude, you do know he's a fag, right? You on a date, Liam?” Larry fluttered his eyelashes and laughed. “Better not have a piss while he's around. Before you know it you'd end up-”

Liam wrenched his arm free, elbowing Larry in the ear. “You know what, Larry? You're an asshole. You stay away from him or we're gonna have a problem, got it?”

Larry rubbed his ear, glaring up at him. “What the fuck’s your problem? You sweet on him, Lee?”

“Guys...” Harris said warily, putting down his coffee mug. “I ordered my lunch without the drama, if you don’t mind.”

Liam took a deep breath, his brain finally catching up with his actions. Shit. “He's a nice kid, all right? And he's one of us. That's all that matters. And if I hear you or anyone else's been giving him trouble you're gonna answer to me, you got that?”

He stalked away, ignoring Larry's muttered response. Spike was sitting in the corner booth, watching him with a mixed look of concern and annoyance. “What the bloody hell was that about?”

“What do you think? I told you this was a bad idea.” He slid into the booth with a scowl.

Spike stiffened. “I don't need you to fight my battles, all right? I can take care of myself.”

Liam stared at him incredulous. “You just yelled at me for being a coward regarding Billy and now, when I finally say something, I'm not allowed? Make up your mind, kiddo.”

“Not a kid.” Spike frowned. “And I'm not Billy so...”

Liam glared and picked up the menu. “Yeah, well, he's not here so suck it up. Fuck, I can't believe you're pissed off because I told that shithead Larry to stop being a prick and leave you the fuck alone. Shouldn't matter, should it? Whether you like cock or cunt. You're a cop and...”

“You said that?”

Liam looked up. Spike was watching him with twinkling eyes, trying to suppress the smile tugging at the corners of his lips. His very, very, pretty lips. Damn. Focus.

“What?”

“You know, you have a very dirty mouth.” Spike winked. “I like it.”

“Will you just...” Liam looked around in panic. “Stop it!”

Spike frowned. “Stop what?”

Liam leaned forward, hissing between his teeth, “Flirting!”

The puzzled expression on Spike's face was genuine. “You call that flirting? Pet, you haven't been out much lately, have you?”

“And don't call me that!”

The frown deepened. “What?”

“I'm not your 'pet'!”

This time Spike did laugh, the sound echoing loudly in the diner and Liam could feel himself blushing. This had been such a bad idea.

“Liam, trust me. When I start flirting you'll know it. The way I flirt...” Spike leaned forward, lowering his voice to a whisper. “... your cock will go from limp to lead in two seconds flat.”

Liam blinked, hitching his breath. “I think it just did.”

Spike snorted and shook his head. “Yeah, right. So... waffles?”

Liam just stared at him and then lowered his eyes to the menu in front of him. The letters were all blurry and he couldn't register a single thing. He was painfully hard and the fact that Spike didn't believe him was mind-boggling. Had the boy no idea what effect he was having, simply by breathing?

“Yeah... waffles. And coffee. And maybe some toast. With bacon. And eggs.”

Spike glanced up. “You really are starving. Think I'll stick with the waffles and some coffee.”

Liam managed a smile. “Thought you English people only drank tea.”

Spike rolled his eyes. “Yeah, and we all have bad teeth and can't cook to save our lives.” He wriggled his nose in the most adorable way and Liam's cock twitched painfully. “That last bit is true though. Horrible, horrible food. My mum would have been able to kill a whole colony with her Yorkshire pudding.”

He waved at the waitress and flashed her a brilliant smile that made her giggle like a schoolgirl, despite being close to forty and having a ring on her finger. The giggling got louder as Spike ordered, his accent obviously doing unspeakable things to her ovaries. Liam just sat back and tried to look bored, fighting the effect the accent and other things were having on parts of his own anatomy.

She left and they sat in silence until she came back with their coffees, promising to put a speed on their order before going back, wriggling her bottom far too much for it to be a coincidence.

“Okay, that was flirting. With a woman too. Something you wanna tell me?” Liam grinned and raised his eyebrows.

Spike laughed. “You really need to get out more. That? Was what I call talking. It's a thing I do. You should try it. You just open your mouth and words come out.” He winked and this time it was Liam's testicles, doing a little dance in his pants.

“Funny.” Liam scowled. “I talk. I have friends.”

Spike turned sombre, giving him an apologetic smile. “I didn't mean it like that. I was just taking the piss.” He sipped his coffee and then tilted his head in thought. “You mentioned Gunn. He a fireman?”

“Yeah. We were together at the Academy. Not 'together' together,” he hastened to add, “Just...”

“Relax. It's not all about the gay.” Spike smiled. “But he knows, right?”

Liam bit his lip. “Yeah. He's the only one, though. Him and his wife. They're expecting a baby within a few weeks. And she's been sick, on bed rest, that's why he hasn't been around for a while.” He glared at Spike. “He's a good friend. If he'd known I was... he would have kicked my ass.”

Spike lifted his hand in surrender. “Never said he wasn't. Just curious.” He ran a finger along the rim of his cup before looking up through dark eyelashes. “That's why you called me instead of him? Because you didn't want to bother him?”

Liam could feel himself blushing for some stupid reason. “To be frank I can't remember. But I had been wondering whether I should call you. Not to play nurse...” He blushed even deeper. “... but because... I don't know. I'd just been thinking about you.”

Spike nodded, looking slightly embarrassed. “Well, for whatever reason, I'm glad you did. You're an all right bloke, Liam. I'd like to have a friend like you.”

Liam sat still. When he spoke again his voice was low and hesitant. “I never thanked you. For... you know. I guess we're quits.”  
  
Spike looked up in surprise. “I'd hardly say that. You went into a burning building, risking your own life to save mine. Got your gut ripped out and everything. All I did was...”

“Save my life.”

“Yeah, but...”

“And in return I threw up on you and put my fist in your face. I'd say we're even by far.”

Spike grinned. “Yeah, well, if we get to know each other better I'm sure you'll be able to return the favour. I get drunk and throw up on a regular basis. Next time I do, you can be there to hold my hair and stroke my back.” He laughed at the disgusted look on Liam's face. “Nono, no backing out now. That's what friends do. Wipe up each other's vomit.”

“You're ruining my appetite,” Liam started but at the same moment the waitress came sauntering with their plates and his stomach growled in anticipation. “Or maybe not. Thanks.”

The last word was directed at the woman who didn't seem to hear him, just gave Spike a huge smile and laid an enormous plate of waffles before him. “You just let me know, honey, if you need anything else.”

“Promise I will, love. This looks absolutely smashing.”

Liam waited until the waitress had left, hips swinging even more than before, then he picked up his fork and stabbed at the strips of bacon. “You might not think you're flirting but you are. Know how I know? Your accent gets more pronounced. Because you know she loves it. You did the same thing when you showed up at my place the first time.”

Spike laughed, his eyes twinkling. “Not flirting. Being charming. There's a difference.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” Spike leaned forward, lowering his voice until it wasn’t much more than a smooth growl. “If I'd really been flirting, if I'd _really_ wanted her, I'd be in the backroom right now, fucking her against the wall. If she'd been a bloke, that is,” he added as he sat back, grinning at Liam's incredulous look. “What?”

“You think you can get anyone you want, just like that?”

Spike smirked. “Don't think. Know. But then again I wouldn't want them if they weren't so obvious about wanting me. It's a thing. Like the gaydar, just more reliable.”

_'So why aren't you flirting with me?'_ Liam thought. _'How much more obvious can I get?'_

As if Spike had been reading his thoughts he looked up, traces of syrup on his lips. “That doesn't mean I'm a flirter. Not like that. I very rarely meet people I want. And if I really do like them I'd rather wait until I'm sure it will actually lead to something more than just sex. Not much fond of mindless sex.” He suddenly blushed. “Guess I didn't give that impression earlier though. Considering I jumped into your bed like a bitch in heat.”

Now it was Liam's turn to blush. His mind was racing. So, since Spike had jumped in bed with him, did that mean he didn't see this going anywhere, turning into something more meaningful? Not that he was looking for a relationship himself, far from it, but...

“But then again, you are exceptionally gorgeous. You could probably have convinced me to have sex in that burning house if I'd been conscious.” Spike looked completely serious and Liam thought his pants would burst at the seams, right there.

This was getting out of hand. He pointed his fork at Spike's tower of waffles. “Talk less, eat more.”

Spike blinked and then looked down before raising his eyes again. “Sure.”

They sat in silence as they finished their meals, Spike only looking up to smile at the waitress, a bit strained this time, as she came to fill their cups of coffee. When they finally finished Spike pulled two twenties out of his back pocket and lay them on the table.

“I can pay for my own-”

“Your friends are watching. Remember?”

Liam froze. He'd actually forgotten, not only about them but also where they were. What if they've been overheard? What if-?

“Your secret is safe, mate. There's a reason why I chose this table. And the music is too loud for anything to carry over to where they're sitting.”

For some reason Liam felt bad, guilty. Which was stupid because he'd been doing this for so long, hiding what he was, that all this should be second nature to him. Except suddenly it didn't feel that way. Suddenly he felt dirty, low. Shameful. He shook it off and stood up, grabbing his jacket. “Good. Thank you. I'll pay you back.”

“Don't bother.” Spike shot him a smile. “You can pick up the tab next time. I'm thinking... lobster.”

He grinned and walked to the door, ignoring Larry and Harris who were finishing their coffees, Larry giving Spike the evil eye. Liam stalked after him, waiting until the door had closed behind them before answering.

“Yeah. Sure. Funny. I'll buy you a beer or something.”

“Champagne.” Spike unlocked the car, smirking.

“A burger.”

Liam got in and at the last second closed the door gently, which had Spike giving him an appreciated glance before reaching for the safety belt.

“Romantic dinner for two, complete with candlelight and live violins.”

Liam sighed dramatically. “God, you really are gay.”

“You better believe it, baby.” Spike started the car and put it in gear. “Lucky for you, eh? A straight guy probably wouldn't give you a blowjob for dessert.”

Liam had to bite his lip not to groan out loud. Shit. This kid was gonna be the death of him.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The movie they watch is [Hero](http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0299977/), directed by [Yimou Zhang](http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0955443/)

Wasn’t until they pulled up outside his apartment and Spike killed the motor before getting out of the car that Liam realised the kid was going up with him again.

“Hey, you know, you don’t need to…” He paused, suddenly feeling unsure. He didn’t want to sound like he wanted Spike gone since he actually wanted him to stay, but at the same time he kind of resented the notion that he needed a babysitter. “I’m fine. Don’t need you to watch over me. I’m not…”

Spike locked the car before straightening up, leaning his elbows casually on the roof. “We don’t have to have sex, Liam. Actually we probably shouldn’t.”

They shouldn’t? Liam swallowed his disappointment. “That’s not…”

“I’ve got today and tomorrow off. Got nothing better to do. Besides, I don’t trust you yet, pet.”

That stung. “I’m not gonna kill myself, all right? It was a one time thing. I don’t plan on repeating it.”

“You going to have a drink?” Spike’s voice was calm and even but it still put him on the defence.

“What if I do? You’re not my mother, Spike.”

“No, I’m sure your mum doesn’t want to do to you the things I’m imagining right now.” Spike smiled at Liam’s obvious discomfort before turning serious again. “It’s only been half a day, Liam. You’re still shaking and you look bloody awful. Half an hour alone in that apartment and you’ll be out and across the road, stocking up.”

It was all true but that still didn’t make it all right for a damn rookie to talk to Liam like that. “I’m not an alcoholic, Spike. I drink because I want to, not because I need it. I’m not some goddamn addict.”

Spike sighed and closed his eyes for a second before locking them with Liam’s. “Do you really want to talk about this out here?”

Liam glared at him, then turned around and stalked to the door to the apartment block. He looked back to see Spike still standing by the car, watching him patiently.

“Are you coming or not?”

Spike shot him a grin and sauntered around the car, his swagger turning up the heat in the pit of Liam’s stomach. He was still angry, or rather defensive, but his dick didn’t care. All _it_ could think about was the gorgeous ass that was hiding inside those tight and worn out jeans and Spike’s words that they probably shouldn’t fuck. Why the hell not? What was wrong with fucking? Especially when Spike was so obviously made for it.

He fumbled with the keys, dropping them once before finally managing to open the door. He hated to admit it but Spike had been right. Liam’s hands were shaking and he was dying for a drink. Half an hour? Yeah, right. He wouldn’t even have waited for Spike’s car to disappear around the corner before he’d been back out and buying something to drink.

They walked up in silence, Liam’s breath coming in short gasps as they finally reached the third floor. Pain was shooting through his side and he suddenly remembered that he had no painkillers. Fuck. He growled as he opened the door to his apartment, stepping aside to let walk Spike ahead.

Spike made a stiff bow, grinning widely, and walked inside with a theatrical air. “How nice of you to invite me in, sir.”

Liam rolled his eyes. “Whatever. As if you wouldn’t just have staked out my place, waiting to jump on me if I dared to peek outside.”

Spike grinned and thumped Liam amicably on the back. “Yeah, that’s me. Spike, your friendly neighbourhood stalker.”

Liam snorted but he couldn’t hold back the grin. He toed off his sneakers, then gingerly took off his jacket, hissing as the movement stretched his healing skin.

“Still hurts, eh?”

“Yeah. And thanks to you I have no painkillers left.”

He regretted the words as soon as they were out but Spike seemed unfazed, just threw him a smirk and pulled off his own jacket. “Yeah? Well, guess you’ve just got to ride it out and be a man like the rest of us.”

Liam flipped him the finger. “Funny. Haha.”

Spike flung himself down on the couch and stretched like a sleepy cat. His t-shirt rode up and he splayed his fingers on the strip of skin, scratching his belly lazily before pulling the material back down. “Real men don’t need painkillers, mate. We just spit and scratch our bollocks and that’s it.”

“Yeah?” Liam raised his eyebrows. “Real men pass out all the time, after getting a tiny bump on the head?”

Spike threw his head back and laughed and Liam thought his heart might stop. Spike’s neck stretched before him, Adam’s apple bopping up and down as the hearty laughter travelled up and filled the apartment. No one had really laughed like that in here since…

“So what do you wanna do?” He looked around, biting his lip. “Got some movies. We could watch something.”

“Sure, yeah.” Spike sat up, genuine interest in his eyes. “What you got?”

“Erm…” Liam turned to the shelves by the TV. “Mostly foreign movies. I’m a bit of a movie buff.”

“Okay. Let’s have a look.”

Suddenly Spike was beside him, their bare arms almost touching. Liam could feel the heat from Spike’s skin licking his and he found his arms suddenly covered in goose bumps. He took a step back and shivered.

Spike glanced over, frowning. “You okay?”

“Yes.” Liam crossed his arms, rubbing his biceps awkwardly. “See anything you like?”

Spike paused, eyes lingering on Liam’s hands before turning back to run over the titles. “Love those Chinese films.” He reached out and pulled out two DVD cases. “Pure genius, that man.”

Liam’s face lit up. “Yes! I love those. They’re more than just movies, they’re like…” He paused, unable to find the words.

“Poetry. That’s how I see them. The colours and the movements… Pure poetry, mate.” Spike flipped over one of them, reading the back cover. “Haven’t seen this one yet, but I’ve heard it’s brilliant.”

“It will take your breath away.”

Spike turned his head and looked at Liam, small smile playing on his lips. “Oh, I’m sure it will.”

Liam could feel himself blushing and he quickly turned away, picking up the remote from the sofa table. “You want pop corn or something?”

“Nah, I’m good.”

They sat down on the couch and Liam flipped on the TV, waiting impatiently for the menu to show up. “Dubbed or subtitles?”

“Do you even have to ask?”

He snorted and chose English subtitles and they settled down in silence, feet propped up on the low table in front of them, as what seemed like an orgy of colours exploded in front of their eyes.

Liam had seen it five times already but it never seized to amaze him. Soon he found himself enraptured in the story, while his ears and eyes feasted on the amazing colours and music. Spike was right, it was like poetry or a painting come to live. A glutton feast for the senses.

Spike shifted beside him but he paid it no mind until he suddenly felt the weight of Spike’s head settling on his shoulder.

“Sorry. Just… so… tired.” Spike yawned and rubbed his cheek against Liam’s tense shoulder.

“It’s… ok.” Liam swallowed. “You want to borrow my bed?”

“No. This is good. Comfy.” Spike sighed and shuffled closer. “Just give me a nudge if I get too heavy, yeah?”

“Um... ok.” Liam sat still, listening to Spike’s breath slow down until it turned into soft snores and Spike’s head lolled to the side, hair brushing Liam’s chin.

This was… strange.

Not that he was that familiar with gay dating, apart from Billy he hadn’t dated guys at all, but he doubted this was norm, for complete strangers to cuddle up and fall asleep after only knowing each other for little over a day. Not that Spike and he were dating…

Actually he had no idea what they were doing. Spike seemed to have taken it up on himself to be Liam’s guardian, which was rather funny considering the kid was barely out of his diapers. So if he was Liam’s guardian that made Liam his… protégé? No, that didn’t seem right. They were…

Friends. They were friends. Or slowly becoming friends. Possibly with benefits.

His cock twitched and he mentally shushed it.

This morning they had been well on their way to doing what he hadn’t done in other ways than anger since Billy died. It had felt weird, doing that with no emotional attachment, not anger and certainly not love. Just lust. He wasn’t that kind of guy. He’d had his one-night stands before Billy, quick fucks in restrooms or motel rooms, but they never felt right. Once he got together with Billy he understood why. And after Billy died…

There were nights he’d been so drunk and so filled with anger and grief that he’d gone down to the strip, picked up the prettiest kid he could find and fucked him hard up against the wall. It never made him feel better, in fact he’d cried more times than not after it was done. They didn’t laugh when he pulled himself out, shoulders shaking with sobs, broken voice whispering, “Sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” over and over again. Maybe they saw that kind of thing all the time. Maybe they knew enough about life’s harshness to not mock a man that was buckling from under its weight. He didn’t know and he didn’t care, just pushed a few extra bills into their sweaty hands and stumbled out of there, craving to get drunk and get drunk fast.

But this…

He hadn’t wanted to do it out of pure lust since…. well, probably high school, and the feeling confused him. There was no doubt that he lusted after Spike, hell, how could he not? It wasn’t just because the boy looked so much like Billy - in fact the more time they spent together the more he saw how completely different they were – but he had an air about him that just radiated sex. Billy had never been like that. He’d been beautiful and sexy in his own way but so naïve and innocent that it was disarmingly charming more than anything. Spike however knew he was good looking and he didn’t shy from it, instead he revelled in it. It was a part of him, like his accent and the twinkle in his eye. Liam didn’t doubt for one second that Spike had been telling the truth, that he could flirt his way into anyone’s pants if he wanted to. God knows he was halfway into Liam’s without even trying. With most other men the effect would have been sleazy but with Spike it was just… well, fucking hot as hell.

Spike muttered in his sleep and rolled over on his side, his head sliding down to rest on Liam’s belly. He stopped breathing for half a minute, afraid the bellowing movements of his gasps would wake Spike up. When he finally let out the air in his lungs and slowly exchanged it for fresh, Spike only mumbled and put one hand on Liam’s thigh before resuming his snoring. His palm felt hot enough to scorch and Liam suddenly worried that the boy had a fever. He hesitantly laid his palm on Spike’s forehead but it was dry and no warmer than his own skin. He kept his hand there for a while anyway, as if he could absorb Spike’s dreams, then let his fingers run through Spike’s hair and down to his neck where he paused for a moment before sliding his hand up the muscular shoulder and then down the slack arm, finally resting on the curve of Spike’s waist. His t-shirt had once again ridden up and with only a moment’s hesitation Liam let his fingers slip under the hem and then splayed them over the warm skin.

He turned toward the TV again, watching the red and yellow leaves of the forest dance as the women fought, swords slicing through the air in a ballet of movement.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look what I got!! Yes, a new chapter but that's not the woohoo part. The woohoo part is the icon *points to icon* and the banner [](http://mentalme85.livejournal.com/profile)[**mentalme85**](http://mentalme85.livejournal.com/) made for my story (under the cut). Actually she made a bunch of icons and three banners and I'm feeling overwhelmed. And it was so hard to choose!! I'm probably gonna alternate between the banners and I might have to do that with the icons too. Sooo pretty!!!
> 
> Dedicated to [](http://mentalme85.livejournal.com/profile)[mentalme85](http://mentalme85.livejournal.com/) for the lovely art. Thank you, baby!!

 

“Hey, Liam?”

“Uhm…”

Spike watched in amusement as Liam turned his head, trying to get away from the fingers tickling his cheek.

“Come on, pet. Wake up.”

Suddenly Liam jerked awake and abruptly sat up, pushing Spike so hard that he almost fell off the couch.

“Oi! Watch it, mate!”

“What…!” Liam was looking around in panic, his eyes finally settling on Spike and he blinked in confusion. “What happened?”

Spike frowned. “Nothing happened. You just fell asleep, that’s all.”

Liam stared at him and then he suddenly slumped, closing his eyes and rubbing them with his fingers. “I was dreaming. About…” He stopped, his lips settling in a thin line. “What time is it?”

About what? Billy? Spike wished for the hundredth time that he could see inside Liam’s pretty head. “Eight. Fancy a bite?”

Liam’s head snapped up, his eyes comically wide. “What?”

Spike only just managed to keep from rolling his own eyes. “Food. Are you hungry?”

He smiled as Liam glanced down at his stomach as if it could give him answers. “Uh… yeah. I guess.”

“I’d offer to cook but I wasn’t lying when I said spaghetti Bolognese was all I could make. And I made that for myself yesterday. Actually I’ve already had that twice this week so…”

“We can order something. Pizza, Chinese…”

“Chinese it is. Fits in with the movie.” Spike fished his cell out of his jeans. “Oh, maybe I can borrow it, eh? I’d love to see the whole thing.”

“You fell asleep.” Liam was watching him with an odd look on his face.

“Yeah.” Spike offered him an apologetic smile. “Sorry about that.” He grinned. “We didn’t all spend the night dead to the world, you know. Some of us were cleaning and mopping up vomit.”

Liam blushed. Spike had to fight not to reach out and lay his palm on Liam’s cheek, feeling the heat flushing his skin. God, he was beautiful.

“You always so trusting of people?”

Spike frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Falling asleep in a stranger’s apartment. I could have done anything to you.”

Spike snorted. “Speak for yourself, Sleeping Beauty.” He grinned at Liam’s confused look. “I could have robbed you blind, mate. Taken the whole lot, including the sofa with you in it. You were dead to the world.”

That earned him a small smile and he laughed softly. “Besides, you probably wouldn’t have done anything I didn’t want you to do.”

Liam’s eyes turned almost instantly dark and Spike pulled away, cursing his big mouth. Always with the jokes and the saucy suggestions. He wasn’t ready for this, and more importantly, Liam wasn’t ready for this.

Liam was an emotional mess, not to mention the whole closet thing, and in the back of his mind Spike knew he was setting himself up for a heartache if he even let himself consider that they could be anything more than friends, with or without shagging. This morning… it had been a mistake and he was secretly happy that Liam had felt too faint to continue. He’d thought he’d been okay with having a fuck just for fuck’s sake, but in fact it had felt wrong on so many levels. He liked Liam, more than he’d liked any guy in a long time, and jumping straight into bed with someone you really liked was always a mistake. Friends first, fuck later. Turn it around and sure as hell it would stop with the fucking and never become anything more. And God, did he want more. Especially when Liam was looking at him like…

Spike averted his eyes. “Any particular place? The Oriental Express is quite tasty.”

Liam blinked. “Er… yeah. Sounds good.” He shifted awkwardly and ran his fingers through his hair. He was looking pale, a thin sheet of sweat covering his forehead.

Spike nodded and stood up, fishing out the phone from his pocket as he walked into the kitchen. The Oriental Express was number 8 on his speed dial and he pushed it, eyes shifting to the fridge. Billy smiled at him. He shivered and cleared his throat before calling out, “Kung Pao chicken and Szechuan beef okay?”

“Sure.” Liam’s voice was muffled and Spike peeked around the corner as he waited for his call to be picked up. Liam was still sitting on the couch, shoulders slumped, head bowed down. He was breathing heavily, his hands clenched into white-knuckled fists at his temples.

“You all right?”

“I’m fine.”

Spike frowned and walked over, oriental music pinging in his ear. “Your side bothering you?”

“I said I’m fine!”

“Liam…”

Liam’s head snapped up, eyes narrowed in irritation. Sweat was running down his brow. “I need a fucking drink, ok? Go ahead, say it.”

“I’m not gonna say anything.” Spike sat down beside him, laying one hand on Liam’s thigh. “You still want food?”

Liam swallowed. “I… Yeah. I’m still hungry, it’s just…”

“Ok. Listen, it will take a while to get here, if I ever get through on this bloody line. Maybe you should take a shower, that will make you feel better. And then we can-“

_“The Oriental Express, can I take your order?”_

“Yes! Thank you!” Spike patted Liam’s thigh and stood up, walking back into the kitchen. Better order some sodas too.

“Then we can what?” Liam called after him but Spike only waved his hand dismissively and rattled off the order and their address, drying his sweaty palm on his jeans.

Finally clicking the phone shut he walked back into the living room. “They said forty min-“ He froze.

Liam had stood up and was pulling off his t-shirt, muscles rippling under his skin like snakes. Spike stood in the doorway, sweating, unable too take his eyes off Liam as he stretched and creaked his neck with a grunt.

_Fuck, get a grip on yourself. It’s not been that long since you had a shag. Only about… two months, three weeks and five days._

Bugger.

“What are you doing?”

Liam turned around and frowned at him. “Shower?”

“Oh. Yeah, of course. Sorry.” He willed down the blush travelling up from his neck.

Liam stood still, dark eyes watching him and he looked away, swallowing.

“Unless you want to do something else?”

Fuck. His whole body flushed, the warmth in his belly turning into a full blaze fire. “Look, Liam. About this morning…”

“Yes?”

Liam was moving toward him, slow but deliberate steps that made him look predatory. Like a panther getting ready to pounce. Spike took a step back, his breath hitching.

“Maybe we should…”

“Yes. We should.” Liam licked his lips, only a couple of steps away now. “Fuck, you’re hot.”

Spike sucked in his breath. He hadn’t meant it like that. Actually he’d meant quite the opposite. But Liam was staring at him with those big dark eyes and licking those soft lips and, Jesus, look at those muscles.

“Yeah?” _What are you doing? No! Tell him to back off. Tell him..._

“Yeah. I wanna fuck you so bad.”

His lips parted, staccato breath drying out his mouth. “Fuck. Liam…”

Liam took the final step and then he was crushing their lips together again, one hand grabbing the back of Spike’s head while the other palmed his ass.

Jesus!

Spike’s head was spinning and his knees started to feel weak so he grabbed Liam’s shoulder, holding on for support. 'Bad idea! Bad idea! Bad idea!' signs flashed before his eyes until thankfully his brain decided to shut down as Liam’s tongue slid in and started to fuck his mouth in earnest.

“Bedroom.”

He couldn’t answer, couldn’t think, just stumbled backward, trying not to trip over his own feet as Liam pushed him in the direction of the bedroom. They were kissing again, all lips and tongues and teeth clashing. Before he knew it the back of his knees hit the bed and he fell down on it, Liam towering over him for a moment before coming after him, his eyes dark and stormy. His right hand moved down to struggle with the buttons of Spike's jeans and when they proved too difficult Liam cursed and sat back, popping them open with both hands.

“Need to feel you.” He grinned in triumph as the trail of soft golden hairs was revealed and then pulled the jeans down, allowing Spike's cock to spring free. “Not small everywhere then?”

Spike smirked although his heart was thumping in his chest. “Fuck you.”

“No.” Liam grabbed him by the shoulder and rolled him over. “Fuck you.”

He tried to get his breathing under control as Liam pushed his legs apart with his thighs. His hand was still gripping Spike's shoulder, pinning him down and suddenly he could feel panic threatening to break out. This was moving way too fast. What did he know about this guy anyway? If things went wrong he wouldn't be able to fight back. Could hardly move as it was.

“Liam, wait...”

“I know.” Liam leaned over and drew open the bedside drawer. There was a half-empty bottle of lubrication and a squished pack of condoms among other things and he tossed them on the bed. “Been long?”

“What?” Spike struggled to look up, needing to read the look in Liam's eyes, but Liam was leaning to the other side and he only caught a glimpse of the side of his face.

“Been long since you did this?” A slick finger was probing at Spike’s entrance and he jerked away from the cold. “How much prep do you need?” The tip of Liam's finger popped in and the rest soon followed, pushing inside him steadily.

Okay. “Liam, wait. Liam, slow down!” Spike twisted his head to the other side trying to push his hands down on the mattress to heave himself up. “We need to...” The finger curled inside him and he collapsed, sparks of pleasure hitting his gut. “Oh god!”

“Good?” He could hear the smug smile in Liam's voice.

“Yeah, but...” The finger curled again and he moaned out loud. “Uh... Nevermind. Just do that again.”

“Come here, baby.” The heavy hand let go of his shoulder and he almost laughed in relief and at his own stupid fear. “Raise yourself up so I can reach your big cock.”

Oh my God. He stifled a giggle.

The finger stilled inside him. “What?”

“Nothing. Just...” He chuckled. “You sound like a bad porno.” He got up on his knees and pushed back against Liam's finger, moaning softly. “Come on and give it to me, my big fireman hero.”

Liam laughed, then abruptly stopped like the sound had surprised him. “Sorry. It's been too long. Think I've forgotten how real people speak.”

“You're doing fine. I rather liked that 'big cock' part.” He gasped as fingers wrapped around the part in question, squeezing it slightly.

“Well, no lying there. Just be glad I hadn't come to the quivering pale pectorals yet.”

He couldn't help it, he doubled over, laughter shaking his belly as he tried to hold it in. “They never say that!”

“In books they do. And then there's the 'sweet ass' and the 'tight hole' and...”

“Stop it!’ He shook his head, trying to smother his giggles. “You're killing me!”

“Killing you with my fiery passion, you mean.”

“You… Christ. Let’s skip the commentary, shall we?”

“Such a romantic, Spike.”

The fingers were pulled out so fast Spike sucked in his breath, only to hitch it further when Liam drove into him with one hard thrust. “Bloody hell! Jesus, Liam, slow… slow down! I can’t…”

“Fuck. God, you’re tight. So damn…” Liam pulled out to the tip, taking a few deep breaths before slamming in again so hard Spike’s arms gave way and he fell forward, face smothered by the pillow. “Fuck!”

He turned his head to the side, gasping for breath. “Lee, wait-“ Fingers closed over his mouth, digging into his cheek, and he panicked, flailing with his arms as he tried to wrench free.

“Don’t! Don’t call me that!” Liam’s other hand clenched around Spike’s cock, squeezing it brutally, his voice shaking. “ _Never_ call me that!”

Jesus! Spike managed to open his mouth and as soon as one finger slipped inside his mouth he bit down, hard.

“Ow! Fuck!” The hand was snatched away, only to grab his hair and push him further down into the pillow. “That’s how you wanna play this?”

“Liam! Stop! Stop it! Fucking Christ. _Get the hell off me!_ ”

He lay still, breathing raggedly as all movement froze and then Liam was rolling off him and out of bed, stumbling to his feet like a drunken calf as he pulled the condom off with shaky hands.

“Oh God. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Spike closed his eyes for a moment, gathering his wits, before rolling over, glaring up at Liam who was staring at him with wide eyes.

“Who the hell do you think I am? Some whore? Your bloody fucking bitch? Did we enter into some sodding sado-maso relationship and you forgot to tell me about it?”

“No! No, I didn’t mean to… I… God.”

“I don’t know what kind of thing you and Billy had going but I’m _not_ him, Liam. Need to take out your anger on someone? Well, don’t fucking do it while you’ve got your bloody cock up my arse!”

“I didn’t mean…” Liam suddenly sank down to the floor, hiding his face in his hands. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. So fucking sorry.”

Spike sighed and sat up, wincing at the sharp sting shooting up his arse. “Liam, you’ve got to get yourself under control.” He ran his fingers through his hair, his hands shaking slightly. “Hell, I don’t mind it rough but not on the first date. I’d like to know I can trust the bloke first to not fucking strangle me while he’s at it. And I don’t like being treated like a bloody whore. At any time.”

“I didn’t…”

“Yes, you did. Don’t do it again or I’m walking out.”

“I won’t. Never. I promise. God… Will.” Liam’s voice was muffled, his shoulders shaking.

They sat in silence, Liam still cradling his head, Spike watching him carefully. Finally he stood up and reached for his jeans.

“Food’s gonna be here soon.”

Liam shook his head, still refusing to look at him. “I’m not hungry.”

“Yes, you are. Liam…”

“Maybe you should go. Get away from me.”

Spike stopped, then slowly pulled on his t-shirt. “Do you want me to go?”

Liam finally looked up, his eyes red-rimmed and wet. “No. Please.”

“Then I’m not going.” The doorbell chimed and Spike straightened up. “Come on, put your clothes on." Liam cringed and Spike sighed. Enough of this. He toed Liam's thigh playfully. "Hey. I might be kinky but I draw the line at naked dinner parties.”

Liam gave him a cautious smile. “You do?”

“Nah, not really.” Spike smiled back. “As long as it’s not barbeque I’m good. Don’t wanna get my todger stuck in the grill, you know.”

He laughed as Liam blushed a deep red and went to open the door. “Yeah, yeah. I’m com-“

He stood frozen staring at the man outside the door who stared back with a shocked look on his face. “You’re not from The Oriental Express,” he finally managed to blurt out.

The man blinked. Then a big smile broke out on his face. “No, bro. Not exactly.”

“Right.” Spike braved a small grin. “Gunn, I presume?”

“Got it in one.” Gunn stuck out his hand and shook Spike’s vigorously. “I see you guys got together. I told Liam he should-”

“I’m paying. How much is-“ Liam stopped dead in his tracks, staring at the two of them in shock. “Gunn! What the hell are you doing here?”

“Can’t a man come by to see his buddy? Haven’t heard from you in a few days so I thought I’d better check up on you.” Gunn smirked. “Looks like you’re doing just fine.”

“It’s not… He’s not… Fuck you, Gunn.” Liam’s eyes were wide with panic and Spike suddenly felt nauseous.

“What do you know, my bladder’s full. Better pee.”

Spike turned on his heel and stalked into the bathroom, locking the door behind him before leaning against it, closing his eyes. Fuck. This was such a bloody mess.

If Liam couldn’t even tell his best friend, the only other person in the world that knew he was gay, that he was fooling around with Spike, how the hell was this ever going to work? Spike was done with hiding, done with pretending to be anyone else than he was. And Liam was still stuck in the bloody closet. Which meant they would never be able to go out anywhere, never be able to touch or even talk in public without Liam freaking out. Could he really live like that?

Shit. It wasn’t even as if they were dating. He was just here to make sure Liam didn’t try and top himself again. And being two healthy – well, more or less healthy - gay men they were putting the time spent together to some proper use. That was all. A casual sex thing. Right. If he kept telling himself that maybe he’d start to believe it.

A soft knocking on the door made him jump. “Food’s here.” Gunn.

“Yeah, okay.” His voice was hoarse and he cleared his throat. “In a minute.”

He turned around and checked himself in the mirror. His face was flushed but otherwise he looked fine. He ran the tab, splashing his face and then running his wet fingers through his hair before drying his hands and face on the towel. Then he opened the door and almost walked into Gunn standing right outside.

“Oh. Sorry.”

He tried to walk past but Gunn grabbed his arm, pulling him close. “You all right?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.” He twisted his arm free and huffed indignantly. “Why shouldn’t I be?”

“Right. You know, I’m glad. He needs someone to-“

“I just dropped by to say thank you, alright?”

Gunn stepped back, dark brown eyes watching him. “He’s scared. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t care.”

Spike tried for a bored smile. “Look, mate, I barely know him. He saved my life so I came by to thank him, that’s all.”

“Sure. Whatever.” Gunn slipped past Spike and into the bathroom. “That’s why you’ve got a hickey the size of an orange on the back of your neck,” he added with a smirk before closing the door.

Fuck! Spike’s hand flew to his neck and he glanced in the hall mirror. Ok, not an orange but definitely a grape. Maybe even a plum. Shit. He couldn’t even remember Liam sucking his neck. Was it just now or did it happen this morning? Had they gone to the diner with this evidence shining like a gay beacon on his neck?

And why the hell was he panicking? He wasn’t the one in the fucking closet. Bugger it. He was not going back there. He’d had enough of shame and fear and constantly looking over his shoulder, thinking people would be able to know he’d just been fucked just by looking at his arse. _I can’t do this. I fucking can’t do this. Not again. Never again._

He took a deep breath and walked into the kitchen where he could hear Liam moving about. He looked up when Spike came in, scowling slightly, his face still flushed.

“What were you two talking about?”

“Football.”

Liam narrowed his eyes. “Liar.”

“Yeah well, I’m not the only one.” He reached for a can of coke, avoiding Liam’s glare.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means what it means.” He looked up at Liam and sighed. “Look, Liam. I like you but we’re not gonna do any more of… that. Okay? I just can’t… I just can’t, all right?”

Liam froze, paling slightly. “I said I was sorry. I’ll never…”

“It’s not about that.” He’d actually forgotten all about that. “I’m out, Liam. Been for years. That means I made the conscious decision to never again hide who I am or what I am. Been wasting too many years feeling ashamed…” He raised his hand when Liam opened his mouth, shutting him up. “I know, you’re not ready. Maybe you never will be. But I can’t go back to that. I can’t be that person again. Not for you, not for anyone.”

“I never asked you to.”

“No, but you’re still expecting me to do it. To act like we barely know each other, even in front of your best mate that actually knows you’re gay. I just… I can’t do it, Liam.”

“Will…” Liam’s eyes flicked over Spike’s shoulder and froze.

“Am I interrupting something?”

Spike turned his head and looked up at Gunn who was watching them with a wary look in his eyes. “No. You’re not interrupting anything. I better go. I need… Need to get home. I’ll be back tomorrow.” He turned to Liam. “You gonna be all right?”

“Spike, please.”

“Are you? Because I’ll stay if you think you need me.” He kept his voice earnest while trying to make it clear that he needed the alone time.

“I… I’ll be okay.”

“Promise?”

“Yes. I won’t… do anything.” Liam avoided Gunn’s startled eyes.

“Good. If you need anything you can call me. Otherwise I’ll pop in tomorrow.”

He gave Liam a small smile then turned around, brushing past Gunn and out into the hall. He shuffled into his sneakers and grabbed his jacket. He could hear a quiet murmur starting up in the kitchen as he closed the door behind him. With each step down the stairs his heart felt heavier and by the time he was out and back in his car his throat was tight and his hands shaking. It was for the best. There were only so many times he was ready to get his heart broken.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The pendant mentioned is actually based on one I gave hubby oh so many years ago. I should take a pic for you so you could see how beautiful it is. Also there might be a Coupling reference in this. Cookie for the first who spots it.

“You all right there, Willie boy?”

Spike glanced up from his styrofoam cup, giving Lindsey a cautious smile. The verdict was still undecided on that one. He hadn’t really given Spike any grief yet, except for a couple of dirty grins and rude hand gestures, but the whole redneck thing he got going put Spike on edge. He wasn’t the prejudiced kind but he’d had enough run-ins with the like of Lindsey MacDonald to expect the worst.

“Dandy. Thanks for asking.” He shot a look back at the morning crowd filling Starbucks, wondering how bloody long it could take to get that froufrou coffee drink Kate always ordered.

“Just you look a bit tired. Busy weekend?” The suggestive leer was obvious.

Spike held back rolling his eyes. Why on earth straight people seemed to think that all gay men spent every free minute partying and fucking was above his understanding. “You could say that.”

“Bet it was.”

Lindsey grinned and took a sip from his own cup. Black, no sugar. Spike still remembered what most of them preferred after having been sent on endless coffee runs his first week, until he told them he might be a rookie but that didn’t mean he was their fucking maid so “you get your own bloody coffee from now on, you lazy arse wankers.” He still occasionally picked up a cup for someone, a non-obtrusive friendly gesture, since it had long been proved that the way to a cop’s heart was through his caffeine-starved stomach. And he needed all the points he could gather without being anyone’s doormat.

“Heard you took Liam to lunch.”

Spike stilled, then took his time swallowing a mouthful of coffee before glancing up as casually as he could master. “The least I could do.”

Lindsey nodded. “Yeah. He got pretty banged up, right? Heard he’s off work for some weeks.” He stood quiet for a while, picking at the edge of his cup. “Did he tell you about…? There was this kid. You look just like him.”

Spike frowned. They’d been working in the same division for weeks. Why was Lindsey bringing this up now? “Kate told me.”

“Maybe he was your long lost cousin or something. Looking just like you and being bent and all.”

This time Spike almost did roll his eyes but instead he gave a solemn nod. “Probably. It runs in families, you know. My dad was a queer and his dad was a queer and my whole maternal line is like a lesbian inferno.”

Lindsey stared at him with a blank expression on his face and then suddenly he burst out laughing, slapping his thigh in amusement. “Fuck, boy. You really had me there.” He punched Spike’s arm playfully. “I like you. You’re all right.”

Spike quirked his eyebrow, still not quite convinced. “Thank you. You’re not too bad yourself for a redneck.”

“There now, no need to be impolite.” Lindsey winked. “I’m plenty bad, I’ll let you know.”

“Yeah, Linds. You’re totally evil.” Kate grinned and handed Spike a cinnamon bagel, warm from the oven. So that’s why it took so long. “You should have been a lawyer.”

“Suits aren’t really my style, sugar.” He smirked. “Unless you’re hot for hang nooses, then I’m sure I could…” He licked his lips and mimicked straightening a necktie.

“In your wildest dreams, cowboy.” But she was still smiling, stance easy, and Spike could feel himself relaxing. If Kate liked someone they were usually all right.

“We were just talking about Liam. Will here took him out for lunch.”

Kate looked at him in surprise. “You didn’t tell me that.”

Spike shrugged. “Just wanted to thank him.”

“Good for you. I’m just surprised he said yes. Keeps to himself mostly. All work and no play, that man.”

“I guess he was hungry.”

She nodded and turned to Lindsey, engaging him in conversation about some football game and Spike zoned out, thinking about Liam. He’d woken up on Sunday morning with a text message waiting, saying Liam was going to hang out at Gunn’s, he was invited to dinner as well, so no need for Spike to come over. It was an obvious if polite brush off and he was still contemplating how he felt about it.

It was probably a good thing. The last thing he needed was getting involved with a closet case. He’d give Liam a call tonight, just to make sure he was all right, but if Liam didn’t want to see him then that was it. He wasn’t about to force his friendship upon someone who didn’t want it. Even if that someone was as gorgeous and interesting as Liam.

To be frank, the man had issues far beyond what Spike was ready to tackle. Not just the whole closet thing but the guilt about Billy’s death and the drinking and the depression and…

The memory of Liam’s fist around his cock, his fingers and then his dick thrusting into Spike’s arse flashed by and he almost choked on his coffee.

“You all right?” Kate slapped his back, looking at him with concern.

“Ye-eah.” He coughed, waving his hand dismissively. “Coffee. Wrong way.”

“Huh. I’d think you’d be used to swallowing.”

Spike glared at Lindsey, who was blinking innocently, then took in the horrified expression on Kate’s face and grinned. “Well, you know what they say is the difference between liking and loving, mate.”

Lindsey smirked. “If you love someone, you swallow?”

“If you love someone you buy them proper coffee and not piss like this. What were you talking about?”

Now it was his time to blink innocently and Lindsey laughed again, shaking his head.

Kate just looked from one to the other in confusion before rolling her eyes and taking a big bite out of her bagel. Men. Who knew what went on inside those peanut brains of theirs?

Spike smiled and banished all thoughts of Liam from his head. Didn’t pay to be distracted on the job. He’d have plenty of time to mull over it when his shift was over. They chatted a while longer and then parted, having made plans to meet up for a beer after work. Spike nodded his farewell to Lindsey and walked with Kate to the car. See, he was making friends. Didn’t need no brooding fireman.

\--------------------------

Liam sat on the couch, staring into space. The TV flickered in front of him but he wasn’t watching, hadn’t even glanced at it for the last half hour. Suddenly he stood up and walked into the bedroom, opened the closet and pulled out an old shoebox. He stood weighing it in his hands for a moment before carrying it back into the living room and sitting down on the couch, box in his lap. He took a deep breath and then slowly lifted the lid.

Billy’s happy face smiled up at him. The sun caught in the blond hair and Liam thought he could see clouds reflected in Billy’s blue eyes. A few freckles were sprinkled across his nose, further proof that this had been taken during the summer since they always disappeared over the winter time. He was wearing blue jeans, a red t-shirt and the gold pendant Liam had given him on their second anniversary. It was a small square, rough surfaced and engraved with a picture of an oak tree on the front and their anniversary date on the back. August 19th, 1999. No names, just in case. Not that he’d told Billy that and Billy had been too happy about the gift to question anything.

_“It’s us. Strong as an oak, right? I love it, Lee.” Blinding Liam with his smile. “I love you. Thank you.”_

Liam briefly closed his eyes and then took the frame out of the box, putting it aside. Underneath were two albums and he picked up the older one, marked 1999-2002, flipping slowly through it. Billy had loved taking pictures, something that had rubbed off on Liam and what started as mostly pictures of Liam changed gradually into almost exclusively pictures of Billy.

Drinking a beer while slouching on the same couch as Liam was now sitting on, t-shirt riding up to expose his belly. Sitting on the window sill, right over there, reading. Lying sleeping on the grass in the park, his freckled nose and long eyelashes casting shadows over his cheek. Putting on a ridiculous Chippendale pose in his uniform, grin splitting his face. Doubled over with laughter a few seconds later. Rubbing sleep out of his eyes on a Sunday morning. His birthday. The vacation they took in Florida. Caught in mid-air jumping into a lake up in Minnesota. Caught off guard glancing over his shoulder, eyes red-rimmed and glittering. Liam didn’t know why he’d taken that one.

Liam closed the album and picked up the other, 2002-. There were only a dozen pictures in it and very few smiles. It had been so obvious. After. Just looking at those pictures even a child could have seen the change. But not Liam. Oh no. He’d been too busy being Liam the fire fighter, Liam the hero, to have time being Liam the friend, Liam the lover.

Billy suddenly starting to go out at all times had pissed Liam off. He’d accused Bill of surfing the clubs, looking for cheap thrills and Billy had thrown back that at least he went out, at least he wasn’t afraid to be seen.

_“What’s that supposed to mean?”_  
“Nothing. I’m not fucking them, Lee, I’m just talking.”  
“You can talk to me.”  
“It’s not enough.” 

Sometimes he’d waken up to Billy crying, his face pushed into the pillow to muffle the sound and he’d just laid there, listening, hardly daring to breathe, waiting until the sounds died away and were replaced with Billy’s even breathing. Blocking out the memory the next morning and acting like nothing happened. Then one day…

_“I want to invite my parents over. To stay for the weekend.”_  
“What?”  
“My parents. I want them to get to know you.”  
“Have you lost your mind? You can’t do that.”  
“Why? I want them to know. I’m ready.”  
“Ready? Ready to do what? Ruin our lives?”  
“Not ruin. Live. Live our lives.”  
“Well, that’s just great. Let’s just throw it all away. Our jobs, our friends, our fucking families. Because you’re ready.”  
“Liam…”  
“No. Fuck you, Billy. You don’t get to decide this on your own.”  
“Well, neither do you.”  
“I swear, if you tell anyone... You hear me, Billy? You hear me?”  
Door slamming.  
Silence. 

Liam jerked awake at the shrill sound of the phone ringing. He blinked and raised his fingers to his face, stroking down his cheek. They came away wet. Huh. The phone rang again and he abruptly stood up, the album falling open on the floor.

“Hello?” His voice was rough, and he cleared his throat. “Who is it?”

_“Liam? It’s Spike.”_ The voice sounded tired. _“Just wanted to see if-“_

“I’m fine. Thank you.”

There was a pause on the line and Liam gripped the phone harder. It’s not worth it. It’s not…

_“Okay. Whatever you say, mate. You have my phone number if you ever want to…”_ The voice trailed off. _“Right. Anyway, it was nice knowing you. Guess I’ll see you around.”_

“Spike, wait.” His heart was hammering in his chest and he felt slightly nauseous. “I still owe you that beer.”

There was a sigh from the other end. _“You don’t have to…”_ Pause. _“All right. When?”_

_Now. Right now. My head is filled with ghosts and I can’t breathe when I’m alone._

“Whenever. Not like I’m doing anything.”

_“Friday?”_

Silence.

_“Or sooner?”_

“You doing anything right now?”

Pause. _“No, not really. You want me to come over?”_

“If you like.”

_“Liam…”_ There was that sigh again. _“All right. I’ll be there in five.”_ Click.

Liam put the phone slowly down and wiped his palms on his sweats. He caught his face in the hallway mirror and the eyes staring back at him were dark and wide. Frightened. What was he doing?

Taking a deep breath he walked into the bedroom and stripped off his sweats and t, replacing them with clean jeans and a long sleeved, soft, dark blue t-shirt he’d found at the bottom of his laundry basket. He hadn’t worn it for months and it clearly showed how much weight he’d lost. Still looked good on him. It brought out the darkness in his eyes and showed off the muscles in his arms and shoulders. It had been one of Billy’s favourites.

He needed a haircut but he’d shaved that morning and over all he looked better than he had in weeks.

The doorbell rang and he jogged to the intercom to buzz Spike in. It didn’t work half the time, which was why Gunn usually used his key downstairs and just knocked on the door to his apartment. Maybe he should get Spike one too. If they were gonna keep seeing each other. In whatever sense of the word.

He listened for Spike’s steps and opened the door just when he was about to knock.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

Spike looked slightly taken aback, eyeing him with a look Liam couldn’t recall seeing there before. A cautious and slightly wary look, as if he was on guard about something.

“Thanks for coming.”

“You look good. Better, I mean.” The wary look went away and Spike smiled. “Smell better too.”

“Hey!” He tried to look indignant but it felt so good to see that smile again that he hardly bothered. “Well, all right. I did some laundry. That probably helped.”

“I’d say.” Spike ran his eyes over him and Liam could feel himself blushing. “That colour suits you.”

Liam smiled. “You being charming again?”

“I don’t know.” Spike pursed his lips. “Is my accent pronounced?”

“Not really.”

“Then I guess not.” He winked and tilted his head. “You gonna let me in or what?”

“Oh. Yeah. Sure.” Liam awkwardly took a step back, unable to keep from inhaling when Spike passed him by. Spike smelled of beer and autumn and a touch of smoke.

“How you been?”

Liam closed the door slowly before turning around, a smile plastered on his face. “Good. Sorry about yesterday. Gunn insisted.”

“No problem.” Spike took off his jacket and hung it up on the stand by the door. “His girlfriend doing all right?”

“Yeah.” Liam smiled at the memory of Fred grabbing his hand and putting it on her belly. That baby was going to be one hell of a soccer player. “Big as a house, not that anyone dares to tell her that. Getting tired of waiting for the baby.”

Spike nodded. “When is she due?”

“In a couple of weeks. Might induce her sooner.” Liam waved two fingers and smiled. “Twins.”

“Oh. Really?” Spike tilted his head, watching him. “Sounds like Gunn’s gonna have his hands full.”

Liam paused, his smile faltering. He hadn’t thought of that. “Guess so.” They hardly saw each other as it was, since Liam hadn’t been to work and Gunn was bound to Fred’s side in his free time. And once the baby came…

“Well, if you ever need someone to share a beer with…” Spike gave him a smile and he swallowed the lump in his throat.

“Thanks. Speaking of which…” He started walking to the kitchen, then paused and looked back. “I’m having one”

“Okay.” Spike’s face was blank.

He could feel his defences building up again. “I can, you know, without getting drunk.”

“I’m sure you can.”

“I’m not an alcoholic.”

“I never said you were and besides, it’s non of my business, Liam.” Spike gave him a smile and he nodded before continuing into the kitchen.

As soon as he walked in the picture of Billy stared back at him from the fridge and he did a double take. Shit. Hurrying back into the living room he stopped in his tracks. Spike was standing by the couch, looking down at the open album lying on the floor. It was the page with the last pictures Liam had taken of Billy and he didn’t need to step closer to know what Spike was seeing.

“Don’t.”

Spike looked up. His face was unreadable, eyes guarded, upper lip caught between his teeth.

“I was just… When you called… I should have put them away.”

“Why?” Spike bent down to pick up the album and Liam almost rushed forward to shove him away. No one had seen those. Not even Gunn. “They’re beautiful. You take them?”

“Yes.”

“You’ve got real talent.” Spike stroke one finger over the glossy surface. “You’ve captured his sadness perfectly.”

Liam froze. “You… you see it?”

“Well, yeah.” Spike frowned. “I mean, it’s obv-“ He looked up and stopped. Blinked. “You didn’t.” It wasn’t a question.

Liam swallowed. “No. I didn’t. Not until it was too late.”

“He was depressed.” Again, not a question. “And you blame yourself for not noticing.”

“Yes.”

Spike nodded slowly. “I can understand that.” He lowered his eyes again, turning the pages. “He was beautiful, charming. Had a great boyfriend. Why should he be depressed?”

“He had a lousy boyfriend.” A fucking bastard of a coward.

Spike glanced up at him. “You think so now, but you didn’t then. To you he had no reason to be depressed. No more than anyone else in your situation. Men and women live like this all over the world. Private, secluded, keeping to themselves so that people won’t interfere. Why would you be any different?”

“Because…” Liam stopped. _Fuck. I can’t do this._ “Can we drop it? I’m not really in a sharing and caring mood.”

Spike stood still for a moment and then he nodded, putting the album back down. Liam hurried over and scooped both albums and the frame up and into the shoebox, putting the lid on firmly, all the while avoiding Spike’s eyes.

“I’m just gonna put this…” His voice trailed off and he gave a small nod before taking the box with him into the bedroom, feeling Spike’s eyes burning a hole in the back of his neck.

“How about those beers?” he yelled, congratulating himself on the steadiness of his voice.

“Sure.” Spike’s voice was crystal clear and Liam turned around to find him standing in the doorway, watching him. “Only one though. Already had a couple at the pub and I’ve got work tomorrow.”

“Yeah?” He kept his voice casual, forcing his way past Spike and into the kitchen. “You go with Kate?”

“Yeah. Kate and this bloke Lindsey and his partner Faith. Nice people. Odd, but nice.”

Liam slowly straightened up, two beers clutched between his fingers. “You went with Lindsey?” He closed the fridge, eyes locked on Billy’s picture.

“Yeah. Why?”

“Nothing. Just didn’t take him for the type.”

“Type for what? Having a pint? Huh. He seemed to like it well enough.”

Liam turned around. “You know that’s not what I meant.” He handed Spike one beer and twisted the cap of his own, scowling.

“I know.” Spike was watching him with an exasperated look on his face. “You’re such a bigot, you know that?”

Liam blinked. “What?”

“You put people into boxes. Gay here, straight there. To be kept separate at all cost.”

“That’s not true.” He could feel himself getting angry again.

“No? You can’t see why Lindsey, a straight redneck, would want to socialize with me, a gay… whatever it is you see me as. Worlds collide. The Apocalypse is upon us!” Spike threw up his hands in a dramatic gesture, rolling his eyes for emphasis.

“Shut the fuck up. I know him, all right? He’s all tough guy.” Liam took a sip from the bottle, swallowing in anger. “Nothing but pussy this and fuck that. If he knew I were gay he’d be the first to turn his back on me.”

Spike shook his head. “You’re totally paranoid, pet. He’d give you shit about it, yeah. Probably call you a fag and a queer and offer to walk your sweet little girly arse home. But…” Spike locked eyes with him, his face turning serious. “He’d do it with a grin, then buy you a beer and if anyone else gave you grief he’d knock their teeth in.”

“Yeah, right.” Now it was Liam’s turn to roll his eyes. “I’ve known that guy for years, Spike. You’ve known him what? A couple of weeks? Days? What makes you think you’re an expert on…”

“The fact that he’s right now nursing an impressive black eye and very bruised knuckles after we ran into your mate Larry outside the bar.”

Liam froze. “What?” He took a step closer, paling slightly. “Are you okay?”

Spike’s smile faltered and he looked away. “Yeah. He hardly even touched me. Didn’t get the chance. Just grabbed my arm and started dragging me into the alley and the next thing I knew he was being slammed into the wall, getting the shit knocked out of him.” He grinned. “It was bloody priceless.”

Liam tried to fight down the rage rushing through his veins. “I told him to leave you the fuck alone.”

“I guess he didn’t listen.” Spike shrugged.

“That fucking son of a bitch.” Liam slammed the beer down on the kitchen table and stalked to the door, reaching for his jacket.

“Whoa. Easy there.” Spike ran after him and grabbed his arm, forcing him to stop. “I think he’s learned his lesson. Considering he’s getting his nose reset, probably as we speak. And it wouldn’t surprise me if he needed quite a few stitches.”

“I don’t fucking care.” Liam wrenched his arm free, hands trembling with anger. “I’m gonna smash his stupid skull in, that fucking asshole.”

“You know, even if it’s quite sexy that whole caveman thing you’ve got going, I’d rather we just had the beer.” Spike leaned against the door, his hand resting on the knob. “All right?”

Liam stood still, breathing heavily, then his shoulders slumped and he reluctantly took off his jacket and hung it back up. “Ok. Fine” He scowled. “I’m still gonna kick his ass next time I see him.”

“Of course you are, luv.” Spike smiled and pushed himself off the door, before walking into the kitchen to fetch Liam’s beer. “Gotta reinstate your status as alpha male. Can’t let him get away with not following your orders.”

“It’s not funny,” Liam growled.

Spike’s eyes turned serious. “I know. I can’t say I like it but I’m not gonna argue with you. It’s your decision. As long as you’re not doing it for me.” He grinned again. “I’m a lover, not a fighter, baby.”

Liam could feel himself relaxing, the smile slipping back to his lips. “Quoting Michael Jackson? Now I see why people keep wanting to beat you up.”

“Haha. Funny.” Spike slapped him across the head. “Come on. Let’s see what’s on the telly.” He walked over to the couch and sat down, patting the space beside him. “If you’re good I’ll let you put your head in my lap.”

Liam grinned and walked over, picking up the remote. “And if I’m bad?”

“Then I’ll put my feet in yours. And I’ve been wearing these socks all day.” He winked and wrinkled his nose.

Liam laughed and without thinking reached out and ruffled Spike’s hair. Then quickly pulled back and blushed when he realised what he was doing. Spike just gazed up at him with sparkling eyes, smile bright and relaxed.

“You’re just gonna stand there or what?” Spike patted the seat beside him again. “Sit down.”

They sat in silence for a while, sipping beer and watching an old Friends episode. Liam glanced at Spike. The split in his lip was healing, the bruises across his nose and on his cheek turning yellow.

“You sure you’re all right? He really didn’t hurt you?”

Spike turned his head, his eyes calm and deep like the ocean. “Yes, I’m sure. I’m all right.” He turned back to the TV, eyes fixated on the screen. “We’re all right, Liam.”

Liam let out a breath he hadn’t realise he’d been holding. “Good. That’s good.”

On the screen smiling faces bantered and laughed.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to [](http://azure-k-mello.livejournal.com/profile)[azure_k_mello](http://azure-k-mello.livejournal.com/) and [](http://bethlehem2.livejournal.com/profile)[bethlehem2](http://bethlehem2.livejournal.com/) for the LA info. I finally went with Mid-Wilshire. Not that it really matters, not exactly writing Nobel prize material here. *g*

“Like riding a bike. Right, Liam?” Harris grinned and punched Liam in the shoulder before pulling out his handkerchief to wipe most of the soot off his face.

“You guys act like I’ve been away for years, not a few weeks. Cut the crap, will ya.” But he was smiling, the weight of the jacket reassuring on his shoulders. His nostrils itched, his face was flushed from the heat and the skin around his scar was prickling from the exertion. It felt great.

“It’s just because we’ve missed you, old man. This place hasn’t been the same without you. I swear, it’s been absolutely brood free.” Gunn winked and Liam slapped him upside the head.

“Shut up. You just missed my awesome coffee. Jesse been poisoning you with his shit, hasn’t he?”

“Fuck, yes. Please, for the love of God, never leave us again!”

“Fuck you.” Jesse flipped them the finger before climbing into the truck and Liam laughed. He felt good. He felt great. Why the fuck he’d allowed himself to sink so low in depression, he had no idea.

“You’re in a good mood,” Gunn grinned, wiping the sweat off his bald head before buckling up. “Been enjoying some R&R?”

The smile faltered and he shot Gunn a glare. “Getting away from you guys obviously has that effect. I’m sure to be back to my old sour self in no time.”

Gunn’s grin stiffened. “Looks to me like you’re back already. Look, I’m just happy you’re happy. No need to bite my head off.”

Liam held his glare but then his face fell and he looked away. “Sorry. I’m just… It’s good to be back.”

He offered a smile and after a while Gunn returned the grin and slapped his arm. “So how about that coffee when we get in?”

“You’re such a shithead, Chuck.”

“And that’s why you love me.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Bitch.” Liam leaned back and closed his eyes, smiling. Life was definitely good.

\---------------

Fuck, his day was crap. It started out badly and had only gotten worse. First he overslept and didn’t have time for neither a shower nor a cup of coffee. Then Kate was sick and he got paired up with the Summers girl. Not that she was bad, actually she was a pretty good cop, but she just… Wouldn’t. Shut. Up. Going on and on about shoes and makeup and detective Riley that she’d just started seeing and…

“God! Like… men! So clueless, sometimes, you know?”  
  
Made him wonder if she thought him being gay meant he was a woman and would 1) actually be interested in shoes and 2) not take offence for his gender. However there didn’t seem to be much point arguing, mostly because he hardly ever got a word in, so he just nodded and grunted and rolled his eyes or smiled at the appropriate moments.

“It’s so nice to talk to a guy that actually listens, you know?”

“Uhuh.”

He wondered how Liam was doing. It was his first day back after almost three weeks away and even if it was good for him to get out and back into routine Spike couldn’t help worrying that he wasn’t all there yet. No exercise, lots of beer and dulling his brain with first painkillers and then endless television had rendered Liam out of shape and unfocused, both of which he couldn’t afford on the job. And despite Spike or occasionally Gunn popping over to keep him company most evenings, being cooped up all day had a very bad effect on his temper, leaving him edgy and quick to anger.

“So I told him, ‘Riley, just because you’re a detective and I’m still on the street that doesn’t mean you’re any better than me. I could kick your ass any day.’ And he was all ‘Yeah, right’ and actually laughed so I just had to, you know.”

“Yeah, of course.” He glanced at her, trying to figure out what she was talking about.

“And then he has the nerve to call me aggressive! Me! Just because he can’t handle being tackled and held down by a girl. I mean, what does he think I am? A cheerleader? I’m a goddamn cop, this is what I do. Personally I think that desk job is making him soft.”

He grinned. Big Riley face down and straddled by this tiny little bit? He would have paid money to see that.

“So the next day I’m all ‘Hey, maybe we should spar. That could be fun. Yay!’ And he just looks at me with this scowl and says ‘No thanks’ and didn’t even want to have sex. What’s up with that?”

She gazed at him expectantly and he tried to look interested as he thought of a reply.

“Well… sounds to me like he has some self esteem issues. You need to keep him thinking he’s still the man in your relationship. It’s a guy thing. Something to do with being macho.”

“Huh.” She pursed her lips in thought. “What, like I should bat my eyes and wear an apron or something? Cook him dinner? All that ‘Honey, I’m home’ crap?” She rolled her eyes.

He chuckled. “The apron probably wouldn’t hurt. But I was thinking more in the lines of asking him to open a jar or something because you can’t, being the weak little woman.”

“Oh.” She frowned. “He usually asks me to open them for him.” She looked down in her lap, flexing her fingers. “I got really strong hands.”

“Well, then I don’t know, luv. You could admire his muscles or something. And remind him that he makes more money than you. Blokes like that.”

She sighed. “Like I said, men! They’re all wacky.”

“Tell me about it.”

He zoned out as she once again started up on the Fall Fashion.

What wouldn’t he do for a nice burglary right about now? Even a 7/11 hold up would be nice. Or save a kitten. Whatever.

So, so bored.

When his shift was finally over he was feeling wired, itchy. Too much energy built up from doing almost nothing but cruise in the car all day. Had to be the slowest day in LA history.

A shower and a cup of noodle soup later he was pacing the apartment. He hadn’t made any plans with Liam, any more than usual. It was a thing they did, Liam pretended like he didn’t really need Spike and Spike pretended he was the one who was bored and pathetic. Which, to tell the truth, wasn’t exactly a lie. He’d been quite content to spend his evenings reading or watching telly, maybe going out for the occasional drink. Not caring that he didn’t really know anyone or that apart from work he was very much alone. Until Liam. Now he felt restless and so very very bored and found himself staring at the phone, willing it to ring.

When it suddenly did he had to hold himself back from snatching the phone, letting it ring a couple of times before hitting the button.

“Yeah?”

_“William Brent?”_

He frowned. “Yes.”

_“This is officer Moore of the LA police. Are you the owner of a black DeSoto ’59, licence plate HIA 873?”_

What now? “Yeah. What’s this about?”

_“When is the last time you saw your vehicle, sir?”_

“Look, I’m a cop. Just tell me what’s up, alright?”

There was a small pause of silence and then the man on the other end cleared his throat. _“Looks like someone set it on fire. Not much left of it. Sir.”_ The last word was said with a sneer but it hardly registered. Spike was already putting on his jacket and grabbing his keys from the small table by the door.

“Where?”

_“Mid Wilshire. On the corner of West 4th and Crescent.”_

“I’m on my way.”

He disconnected, then called for a cab. Shit. Ordinary vandals or…? He contemplated calling Liam but realised he wouldn’t be off his shift for another hour. What would he ask Liam to do anyway? Hold his hand while he cried over his car? His car… God! He’d had her for so long, she was his baby, and now… He took a deep breath and ran down the stairs to await the cab. He could panic later.

The cab rounded the corner and it was like entering a war zone. Two police cars with blinking lights blocked the street, a fire truck was parked to the side, police men and firemen were hovering around what had been his beloved Dru. He threw the driver a twenty and got out of the cab, unable to take his eyes of the still smoking wreck.

“Fuck, Will. It’s yours, right?”

Spike turned his head, eyes slowly focusing on the man beside him. “Yeah. Do they know who…?” His eyes flickered over to the group of firemen now leaning against the fire truck, watching him. His heart leapt when he caught sight of Liam but before he managed to make eye contact Liam looked away and started talking to a thin gangly guy standing beside him. He quickly focused back on Lindsey who had followed his gaze and was frowning in Liam’s direction.

“Linds, they know who did this?”

This time when the blue eyes met his they were sparkling with anger. “No. Got a good guess though.”

He held out his hand, the side mirror held tight in his fist. The word ‘fag’ was written across the sooty surface with a black marker. Spike suddenly felt nauseous and if there hadn’t been so many watching him he might have sat down on the ground, giving in to his shaky legs. Instead he turned away and stared at Dru, trying to see a glimpse of her beauty beneath the ugly. Nothing.

“Fuck.”

“You can say that again. Fucking assholes, man. I swear, when we catch him I’ll shove that ugly helmet right up his ass.”

Spike whipped around, staring at Lindsey wide eyed. “You think Larry did this?”

Lindsey clenched his jaw and glanced over at the firemen. “Maybe. He was damned pissed. Strikes me as just the kind who would.”

“He’s a fireman. He wouldn’t…”

“Means he knows all the best way to do a thing like this and not get caught. I bet you they won’t find anything.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah.”

Faith came stalking over, looking just as angry as her partners. “Hey, Will. Shitty thing to happen to your car.”

“Yeah.” He felt numb, his brain stuck on single syllable words. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Anything worth salvaging?”

She shook her head. “Not really. It burnt up pretty bad. Everything’s either burnt or melted except the frame and that’s looking fucking banged up.”

He nodded, unable to process. “Okay. Do I need to do anything? You want a report or…?”

“Just wondering when you saw it last.”

He tried to lift the fog enough to think. “Last night. But when I came home from work just now I didn’t even… Shit, I didn’t even notice she wasn’t there.”

Faith frowned. “She?”

“Dru.” At her confused look he gestured tiredly at the wreckage. “The car. Her name is… was… Fuck.”

“Okay. I don’t really have to ask you about enemies, I know about Larry firsthand. Unless there’s someone else…”

“You mean beside the whole LAPD and LAFD and all the other bigoted wankers inhabiting this city? No, can’t think of a single one.”

His voice sounded bitter and angry but he didn’t care. He looked over at Liam again and his anger was fuelled even further when he saw him just standing there, laughing with his friends. His eyes snatched back to Faith who was watching him warily. “Can I go now? I’ve got a killer headache.”

She nodded and patted his arm. “Sure. I’ll talk to you tomorrow for more details.”

“Yeah. Whatever.”

He turned around only to realise the cab was long gone, he’d forgotten his cell phone and he had no car anymore. His shoulders slumped, the lump in his throat painful. Fuck. He really wanted to hit something.

“Come on, I’ll drive you home.”

Lindsey patted his back and stalked to a truck parked by the sidewalk, giving Faith a wave. That’s when Spike first noticed neither of them were wearing their uniforms. Of course not, they’d gotten off their shift at the same time he did.

“What were you doing here?”

Lindsey shrugged and slammed the door behind him before turning the key in the ignition. The engine roared to life. “Moore the moron called me. Knew I knew you. Thought maybe you’d make a big gay drama queen scene. I was having a drink with Faith and she came with.”

Spike closed his eyes and rested his head on the back of the seat. “Fuck.” He half-opened his eyes, glancing at the man beside him. “Thanks. For coming. And driving me home.”

“Don’t mention it.” Lindsey leaned back, one hand loosely on the steering wheel, the other stretched along the back of the seats. “That’s what friends are for. Speaking of which…” His fingers tapped the wheel. “What’s up with you and Liam?”

Spike’s eyes snatched open. “What?”

“Thought you two were buddies.”

Spike’s stomach twisted. “Not like we’re friends. We just had lunch.”

“Well, that’s enough in my book to be considered buddies. And still he just stood there, not looking bothered at all. Struck me as odd, that’s all.”

Spike looked away. “Yeah, well. Liam’s not really the “buddy” type. Not sure he likes any people at all.”

Lindsey glanced over. “No? Kind of a jerk?”

“Nah, he’s alright. Just… a loner, I think.”

“Huh.” Lindsey nodded. “So, you like him?”

“Sure.”

“No, I mean, do you like him?” Lindsey’s tone was even, his face blank. “You know.”

Spike stared at him. He could feel his cheeks heating up and his right hand did a small twitch. “No.” _Fuck you, Liam, for making me do this._

“It’s alright. I get it.” Lindsey looked over and offered him a small grin. “He did save your ass after all. Nothing wrong with a little hero-worshipping. ‘Course, I’m feeling put out, not being worshipped myself.”

Spike snorted. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll build you a bloody altar.”

“Hey! I did save you from that shithead Larry, you know. You oughta buy me a beer.” Lindsey stuck out his chin and flexed his muscles. “Being your hero and all.”

Spike gave him a tired smile, then knitted his brow in thought. He didn’t really want to go home and grieve over his beloved Dru, all alone. And he sure as hell didn’t want to see or even talk to Liam. “Ok, I’ll buy you a beer. Where you wanna go?”

“What, now?” Lindsey raised his eyebrows. “Thought you had a headache.”

“Nothing a pint and a few shots won’t clear. You’re off tomorrow too, right? Got any plans?”

“No, not really. Unless you count a six-pack and tonight’s game. You want in?”

He’d been thinking more of going to a bar but what the hell. “Not intruding on anything, am I?”

Lindsey shook his head. “Just me and my couch.”

“Sounds brilliant. I’ll pay for the pizza.”

“You’re on.” Lindsey flashed Spike a smile and he felt some of the darkness bleed away. “You wanna stop at your place or…?”

“Not really. Just want to get pissed, mate.”

“That’s the spirit.”

Lindsey took a right turn at the next lights and Spike leaned back again, closing his eyes.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _Seven Brothers_ is actually hubby's favourite Finish film. *g*

Ten minutes later Spike was shaken awake by a warm hand on his thigh and for a moment he thought he was on Liam’s couch, having fallen asleep again over one of his strange European movies. ( _Seven Brothers?_ Honestly! Who watches a fucking Finish film for fun?)

“Wha..?”

“We’re here. Sure you don’t wanna go home and get your fairy ass to bed?”

“Shut your gob.” He yawned and stretched before climbing out of the truck. “Might nod off on your couch though. I tend to do that.”

“As long as you don’t drool on my shoulder.” Lindsey smirked as he unlocked the door then strolled in, leaving it open for Spike to follow him. He walked in, then stopped, looking around in awe.

“So you’re from Texas, eh?” He smirked when Lindsey looked almost uncomfortable for a second before throwing him back a smug grin.

“Hell, yeah. Ain’t nothing like it.”

Spike grinned and kicked off his shoes before walking over to run his finger along the horns mounted on the living room wall. Smooth and almost warm to the touch. Nice. He turned away and looked around. All the place needed was a riding bull and he wouldn’t be able to tell it from the seediest honky tonk bar in Dallas. Ok, maybe not the couch. “Nice quilt, mate. Love the little horsies.”

This time Lindsey did blush and it was a priceless sight. “Shut up. My momma made it.”

“Sure.” He grinned and accepted the beer from Lindsey’s outstretched hand before looking around again, eyes finally resting on the wall of family pictures. He walked over, Lindsey following to stand beside him as he studied them. “Nice people.”

“Some.”

Spike glanced at Lindsey but his face was neutral, seeming careless as he sipped from the frosty bottle. He turned back to the pictures, tilting his head in thought. “That you?” He nodded to a little boy standing a little to the side of a group of kids, his face solemn.

“Yeah. Cute kid, right?” Lindsey smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“Yes.” Spike watched him thoughtfully. “Looks a bit sad.”

“Yeah? Maybe. Can’t remember.” Lindsey turned around and walked over to the couch, grabbing the remote from the low table before throwing himself down. “You gonna stand there yapping or what?”

Spike held his gaze for a moment, reading the challenge and deciding they definitely weren’t there yet. “I’m coming.” He tugged off his jacket and threw it on a chair before settling down on the other side of the couch. It was soft and deep and he could already feel exhaustion paralysing his limbs.

“If I fall asleep just throw that nice quilt over me.” He let his eyes slide close and sighed. “Don’t think I can manage going home.”

“No problem. The couch is yours.” Lindsey chuckled and took another sip of his beer. “You realise it’s not even eight o’clock yet?”

“Yeah? Feels like midnight.”

Spike raised his bottle as well and almost choked when his throat tried to swallow and yawn at the same time. Lindsey laughed out loud and smacked Spike’s thigh amicably.

“You just take a nap then, boy, and I’ll wake ya up when my gut starts complaining.”

“Sure. Whatever.” Spike wedged the beer in between his thighs, one hand curled loosely around the neck, and let his head drop back. Such a nice couch…

When he woke up it was dark except for the blue flicker of the television casting shadows across the room. In this light the horns on the opposite wall looked outright scary and he rubbed a palm over his hand, trying to erase the nightmare from his memory. He glanced over, only to meet Lindsey watching him, the light from the TV reflecting in his eyes.

“Hey.”

Lindsey nodded. “Have a nice nap?”

“Yeah. Thanks.” He blinked. Some John Wayne movie was playing on the screen. He bit down a snort and sat up, rolling his stiff neck. “What time is it?”

“About ten. Pizza?”

“Oh, definitely.” Spike yawned, his jaw clicking. “You call and I’ll pay.”

“Sure thing.”

Two hours later his belly was full and his head was getting considerably lighter. They’d quickly finished the beer and had moved on to stronger liquids. The bottle of JD was down to one third and he could feel the anger and fear from earlier slowly dissipating. They’d talked about sports for a while, then moved on to work, Lindsey telling him some of the things he’d encountered since he got on the force five years earlier. It was fascinating in a morbid way and Spike found himself leaning forward, gaze travelling from Lindsey’s lips to his eyes and then back again. He really was a very pretty man. Bet he would look great wearing nothing but his boots and a cowboy hat.

“Will? You alright there, buddy?”

He blinked, the world snapping back into focus and he found himself only inches from Lindsey’s face, so close in fact that he could feel the Texan’s breath on his skin.

“Yeah.” He sat slowly back, swallowing. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to… impose.”

“You know, you’re almost pretty enough to make me forget you have a dick, but not quite.” Lindsey smiled and swirled the golden liquid in his glass, dark eyes still watching him.

“Funny.” He could feel himself blushing. “Maybe I should go.”

“Hey, it’s alright. I don’t mind. I mean, I am a handsome sonofabitch. Can’t blame you for noticing.”

“I’d be blind not to.” Fuck. This was what happened when he got drunk. His mouth just blurted out things his brain hadn’t even thought of. Shit. “I mean… Bugger.” He dropped his head in his hands in mortification. “Stupid mouth.”

Lindsey laughed then leaned forward and patted his thigh. “It’s no big deal. Hell, a few more of these…” Lindsey sipped from the glass, “and I’d be the one staring at you and saying embarrassing shit.”

“’S not funny,” Spike groaned. “I haven’t had a decent shag in months, mate. Except that one time…” He stopped short. “Fuck. I’m sorry. I’m such a stupid fuck when I’m drunk.”

“I’d offer but there’s that whole not being gay thing, ya know,” Lindsey chuckled.

“It’s okay, I wouldn’t mind. I’ve shagged straight men before.” Spike looked up and grinned and then they both burst out laughing, shoulders shaking and tears springing out in their eyes.

Finally Lindsey shook his head and got up. “Think it’s time for bed. You be okay here?”

“Yeah.” Spike stood up as well, swaying slightly. “Thank you. I mean it. The whole thing with Dru and…” He stopped himself at the last minute before Liam’s name slipped out. “Well, you know. Everything. You’re a good friend, Lindsey MacDonald.”

He grabbed Lindsey’s arm and pulled him in for a tight hug, letting his chin rest on the muscular shoulder for a moment, his nose pushed into Lindsey’s half long hair. He smelled of beer and shaving cream and something Spike guessed was just Texas. It was nice. Homey. He suddenly felt like crying and closed his eyes, arm tightening around Lindsey’s shoulders.

“Will. Hey.” Lindsey patted his back then pushed him gently away.

“Sorry. I’m not flirting, honestly.” He rubbed his eyes drunkenly. “I just… I miss having friends. Been so bloody lonely, you know? And… yeah.” He backed away, head bowed. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. Hey, look at me.” Spike raised his eyes warily, meeting Lindsey’s smiling gaze. “It’s okay, Will.” Suddenly Lindsey tilted his head and leaned forward, brushing Spike’s lips with his own in a light kiss then pulled back, still smiling. “Almost as pretty as a girl. Get me drunker next time and I might even go for it.”

Spike stared at him and then a smile spread across his face. “You’re such a wanker, you know that? Like I’d even want you.”

“Like you’d ever get me. I’m so out of your league, man.” Lindsey laughed and shook his head. “Get some sleep. Don’t throw up on the rug. Or the quilt.”

“Yeah, yeah. Love you too, you little twit.” Spike fell back down on the couch and was asleep within moments. Fifteen minutes later Lindsey came out of the bathroom and grinned at Spike’s snoring. He pulled the quilt over him and put a bucket by the side of the couch, just in case, before walking into the bedroom, still smiling.

\---------------------

He woke up to the smell of coffee and his brain threatening to explode. “Oh God.”

“Morning to you too, sunshine.”

The voice was way too bright and loud and Spike considered killing Lindsey. Or smothering him with the bloody quilt. “Don’t. Talk. Coffee?”

“Here.”

Spike accepted the mug gratefully, eyes still half-closed as he inhaled the rich aroma. His head was pounding, his stomach was clenched and he had a feeling he’d done something stupid last night, he just couldn’t remember what. With a groan he glanced up at Lindsey who was watching him with an amused expression.

“I didn’t… Was I a sodding ass last night?”

Lindsey smirked. “You can’t remember?”

“Not really. Just drinking and…” He stopped, a flash of a memory suddenly crossing his mind. “Oh bugger. Did I come on to you?”

Lindsey laughed and reached over to pet Spike’s knee. “Nah, not seriously. You were the perfect gentleman. My virtue is still intact.”

Spike closed his eyes and let his head drop back on the couch. “Oh God. I’m so sorry.” He rubbed one palm over his face, the heat from the coffee mug lingering on his skin. “Feel free to kick me anytime.”

“Don’t think you could take more kicking, kiddo. And I mean it, I didn’t mind.”

“You’re the strangest redneck I’ve ever met, you know that?” Spike shook his head. “Maybe there’s hope for the world yet.”

Lindsey raised his eyebrows. “We’re not all inbred homophobes that spend our free time cleaning guns and fucking our sisters, man.” He was still smiling but it was stilted, his eyes narrowed.

“I didn’t mean… I’m sorry. I’ll go now.” Spike tried to stand up but lost his balance and fell back on the couch, spilling coffee all over his t-shirt. “Fuck! Shit. I can’t believe I… Please just kill me now before I make an even bigger fool of myself.”

“Oh Christ, you _are_ a drama queen.” Lindsey walked into the kitchen, returning with a dishtowel that he threw at Spike. “Give it a rest. You’re right anyway. Most my folks are like that. Well, maybe not fucking their sister… much.” He frowned then laughed at the shocked look on Spike’s face. “Man, you're easy.”

“I’m so sorry.” He dabbed at the dark wet spot covering his front. “I think I left my brain at home last night. I should get my sorry arse…” Suddenly he remembered why he was there in the first place. “Oh bugger. My bloody car!”

“Yep.”

“Shit! I forgot. How could I forget? Bloody fucking hell!”

“I’ll give you a ride. You wanna take a shower first?”

“No. No thanks. I need to change and… Fuck, I guess I have to go in for a statement. That will be a laugh.”

Lindsey watched him for a minute then kicked Spike’s feet off the sofa table. “Come on, finish that coffee and I’ll be your chauffeur for the day.”

Spike managed a small smile. “Does that mean I get to call you James and you have to call me Sir?”

“It means you puke in my truck I’ll make you lick it clean.” Lindsey grabbed Spike’s jacket and threw at him with a grin. “Now get your fairy ass off my couch, bitch, and put your boots on.”

Spike grudgingly got up, cursing as the headache doubled. At least he managed to stay on his feet this time. He felt increasingly foolish. Way to make new friends, William. He threw a glance at Lindsey who was humming under his breath some unknown country song, looking way too much at ease for a straight man that had a gay guy get pissing drunk and come on to him in his own home. Well, if there was a way to determine which ones were your real friends he guessed Lindsey had passed the test.

Unlike a certain broody fireman.

Spike clenched his jaw, refusing to take that thought further. He got it, sure he did. He’d known this would happen, that this was what it would be like being friends with someone like Liam. Didn’t mean it hurt any less. Just as well they only were friends and nothing more, despite Liam’s constant efforts to take it further. Not openly, never that, but the looks and the lingering touches spoke volumes. Only once had Spike been forced to openly reject Liam and it had taken all his willpower not to just lay back and let it happen. It was only a hand falling casually on his neck as they sat on the couch, caressing the short hairs, but when he’d looked over at Liam the desire was evident in his eyes and Spike had shaken his head then removed the hand. They didn’t say a word but he could feel Liam’s irritation and the rest of the evening was spent in heavy silence. He’d thought that was it but the next day Liam called him as if nothing had happened, asking if they were on that night.

“You coming, Willie boy?”

He snapped out of his musings to find Lindsey watching him with a worried frown. Spike nodded and pulled on his jacket then walked unsteadily over to where his shoes lay.

“Spike.”

“Huh?”

He finished tying his shoes and straightened up. “My friends call me Spike.”

Lindsay snorted. “That so? Who came up with a lame-ass name like that?”

Spike swatted his head, then grabbed the doorframe for balance as he almost toppled over. “I did, you wanker. I was in a band, you know. Punk. We all had nicknames and mine was Spike.”

“Let me guess. Studded dog-collar?”

He grinned sheepishly. “Yeah.”

Lindsey shook his head and smiled. “Like I said. Lame.”

“Yes, because listening to country music and strutting around in cowboy boots is so cool,” Spike snorted as he followed Lindsey down the stairs and out into the street.

“Hell, yeah.” Lindsey unlocked the truck and got in, waiting patiently as Spike took a few deep breaths of fresh air before joining him. “It’s the foundation of everything American, man. You better get with the program if you’re gonna live here.”

“Thanks but no. Think I’ll stick with my own program, ta very much.”

“Your loss, pal. You’d look great in a Stetson and some chaps.” Lindsey laughed at the horrified look on Spike’s face, then promptly put the car in gear and swung the truck into the early morning traffic.

\--------------

Considering how little attention he’d given to the location of his car last time he came home, her absence from the usual spot by the sidewalk made him hitch his breath. His Dru. His lovely beautiful Dru.

“You alright?” Lindsey gave him a worried look and he shook his head,

“Yeah. Just… fuck. My car! I can’t believe… It’s not bloody fair.”

“She was a beauty.”

Spike looked at him, grateful that at least someone understood. “Yeah, she was. You should have seen her when I got her. Rusty and dented. Ugly yellow paintjob. Fixed her up myself. Was my only friend for a long time. I know, it sounds stupid but that’s the way I feel. And now she’s gone.”

Lindsey nodded solemnly. “I hear you, man. I used to have a dog like that. Ugly mutt. Stupid as fuck. My best friend in the world. The day he got run over by a car I cried like a baby.”

They shared a moment of silence and then Spike cleared his throat and nodded before getting out of the truck. “You wanna come up or meet me later?”

“And miss you showering? No way.” Lindsey swung the door open and jumped out.

Spike laughed. “And still you keep insisting you’re straight.” He wiggled his fingers at Lindsey. “Stop resisting, my young friend. Come over to the Dark Side and learn what sex is really all about.”

Lindsey raised his eyebrows. “Haemorrhoids?”

Spike gasped. “Oh, you’re evil! And so clueless, poor thing.” He fished the keys out of his pocket and unlocked the door before giving Lindsey his sexiest smile. “The things I could teach you…”

“You wish, bitch.”

“In your dreams, luv.”

He yelped as Lindsey punched his arm, gasping a loud and theatrical “Ow!” before pushing Lindsey back so he fell against the doorframe, cursing loudly. Then ran ahead up the stairs, Lindsey on his heels.

By the time they reached the fifth floor they were both gasping and laughing and Spike had to struggle with the keys before he managed to get them in the lock to let them into the apartment.

First thing that caught his eye was the red light blinking on his answering machine. He walked straight past, kicking off his shoes and throwing his jacket on the couch.

“You’re not gonna check your messages? Could be something important.”

“Later.”

If any of those were from Liam he didn’t want Lindsey to hear them. He grabbed his cell from the sofa table and checked it. Ten missed calls. Voice messages. Text messages. He didn’t have to check the list to know who they’d be from. Well, fuck him. Too little and too bloody late. He threw the cell back on the table and stalked toward the bedroom.

“There’s beer and sodas in the fridge but that’s about it. Help yourself. I’ll be quick.”

“Take your time. I’ve got nothing better to do,” Lindsey huffed from the living room and Spike smiled despite his irritation. “Got any decent DVDs?”

“If you’re looking for porn it’s in the TV cabinet.” He waited until he could hear Lindsey opening it before adding, “Of course it’s all gay porn…” and laughed out loud at the sound of the door slamming shut and Lindsey’s soft swearing.

It felt good, stripping out off the sweaty and smelly clothes and allowing his naked skin to air. He stepped into the bathroom and closed the door behind him before turning on the shower. The small room soon filled with steam and he got under the warm stream of water, groaning as it washed over his aching muscles. Lindsey’s couch wasn’t bad but it was no bed and on top of that all the stress of the last day had his muscles in knots.

He grabbed the shampoo and poured a dollop into his hand then smeared it over his fingers before rubbing it into his hair. He closed his eyes as the suds started to run down, enjoying the feel of warm water on his face and his fingers massaging his scalp. He had an image of other hands doing it instead of his own, strong fingers running through his hair and then slipping down to his neck. He could feel his cock hardening and he tried to will the vision away but it refused to leave. The hands were massaging his tense shoulders and then running down to rest on his hips. Grabbing them to pull him closer, pressing a hard cock against his backside.

He wondered, if he let the fantasy run its course, who it would be, Liam or Lindsey. He couldn’t deny he felt a certain attraction to the Texan but it was different to what he felt toward Liam. More curiosity or possibly the challenge of seducing a straight man. It was a tantalising idea, seducing Lindsey. He had a feeling it wouldn’t be as hard as Lindsey made it out to be. Wouldn’t be the first one to realise his orientation wasn’t as cut and clean as he thought.

Spike smiled and shook his head. He valued Lindsey’s friendship way too much to jeopardise it for a fleeting attraction. Even if something told him it would be beyond fantastic. Beside, Lindsey wasn’t who he really wanted.

The smile slipped from his lips and he could feel his erection deflating. Liam. What the hell was he gonna do about Liam?

His anger was fading away, being replaced by hurt and uncertainty. He should have known something like this would happen if they ever met on the job again.

But that was just it. They hadn’t just “met”, like by accident. They had met because Spike had been the victim. And no matter what had brought it on, even if it was obvious, Liam should have been there for him. Not because they were both gay, not because they had a very limited sexual history, but because they were, as Lindsey rightly had pointed out, buddies. It wasn’t as if he was asking Liam to coo over him like a worried lover but a simple “Hey, man. This sucks.” would have been nice.

Sighing he turned off the water and reached for a towel. He was too tired and too hung over to think about this now. His brain couldn’t really handle more than enough function to get him dressed, take Lindsey out for breakfast (the least he could do to apologise for being a drunken pervert) and then over to work to fill in his statement. Everything else would have to wait. Including Liam.

Spike wrapped the towel around his waist, then lathered up for a shave. He hated having stubble. It gave him a rash and unlike most other men he didn’t think it suited him at all. It just made him look tired.

Once his face was smooth and clean he ran his fingers through his hair until it looked just-fucked and careless, just the way he liked it. He used to slick his bleached hair back once upon a time, until he saw that Draco kid in the Harry Potter movies and realised he’d rather not look like a ten year old, thank you very much. He was actually thinking of growing the bleach out. He didn’t really feel much like his old punk self these days.

When he opened the door that lead from the bathroom to the bedroom he could hear soft singing and guitar strumming from the living room. Smiling he pulled on a clean pair of jeans and a soft long-sleeved t-shirt, grabbing a rolled up pair of socks before tip-toeing down the hall and toward the sound.

Lindsey was sitting on the couch with one foot up on the sofa table, guitar in his lap, frowning with concentration as he plucked the strings through a honky tonk version of Stairway to Heaven. Spike watched for a moment, appreciating the slope of Lindsey’s neck as his hair fell forward and the blue veins running down those muscular arms. Damn. If life was really fair Lindsey would be the gay one instead of Liam. Pretty, witty and not a fucking prick. Plus he could sing.

Spike cleared his throat and smiled at Lindsey when he started and looked up. “Hey.”

“Nice guitar you got here, man. You play?”

“Occasionally. You’ve got a nice voice.”

Lindsey smirked. “Best way to pick up girls. The ladies love a singer.”

Spike laughed. “The lads don’t hate them either.”

“No?” Lindsey raised his eyebrows. “You sing too?”

“It happens.”

“We should jam sometime.” Lindsey sat up and put the guitar back on its stand before leaning back, smiling. “It’s not punk but it’s music. I’ve got a gig in two weeks, playing at The Tequila. You could join me for a song or two. _If_ you’re any good,” he added with a smirk.

Spike stood still, staring down at him. “You wouldn’t mind?”

“Why?” Lindsey leered. “You suck?”

“If you want me to, darlin’.” Spike instantly drawled then shook his head. “No. I mean, you don’t mind being seen with…” He stopped, suddenly feeling awkward and embarrassed. “Forget it.”

Lindsey frowned and stood up, walking up to him. “No. Why are you…? Where did that come from?” Anger suddenly flared in his eyes. “Is this about Liam?”

Spike blushed and took a step back. “No.”

“Yeah. It is.” Lindsey shook his head before giving Spike a sympathetic look. “Hey, he’s an asshole, ok? A complete dickhead. I’ve known him for years and-”

Spike snorted. “Funny. That’s pretty much what he said about you.”

Lindsey blinked. “When did you two talk about me?”

“After you beat up Larry-” Spike stopped. Shit.

“Huh.”

There was an awkward silence and Spike could feel his face burning. Lindsey was watching him, a puzzled look on his face.

“So you are friends. And I guess I was right. You _do_ like him.” He pursed his lips. “Does he know?”

Spike shrugged.

Lindsey paused. “Is _he_ gay?”

Spike squirmed, averting his eyes. “How would I know?” _Damn you, Liam._

“What, no gaydar? Didn’t find no pink slippers in his closet?”

“Fuck off.”

Lindsey sighed. “Hey, I’m just worried about you. I’d hate to see you get hurt.”

“I won’t. It’s not like that. We just had a few pints. He was feeling lonely and bored, all sick at home.”

“How bored? Bored enough to let you suck his dick?”

Spike stiffened. “Know what? I’m not doing this.” He turned and stalked to the door. “You coming or you wanna stay here, going through my dirty laundry?”

“Ok, I’m sorry. It’s none of my business. I’m just…” Lindsey seemed to hesitate, then he took a deep breath and looked Spike straight in the eye. “I liked Billy. He was a sweet kid. And when he came out Liam was the first to turn his back on him. His best friend. So I guess I’m a bit surprised that he’d hang out with you, knowing you’re gay.”

Spike refused to look at him. “Maybe there’s more to him than you see. Maybe he had his reasons.”

“Maybe. Just… be careful.”

Spike nodded. “Yeah. Whatever. You coming or not?”

Lindsey sighed. “Yeah, I’m coming. We good?”

Spike stood silent for a moment, then swallowed and looked up, smiling briefly. “Yeah. You wanna get breakfast?”

“You paying?”

Spike rolled his eyes, his anger dwindling. “I was going to but I’m not sure you deserve it, being such a twat.”

“Hey! I’m not… What the hell’s a twat?”

“Look it up, Texas boy.” He held the door open. “Come on, if I don’t get something in my stomach soon I’ll definitely throw up in your truck.”

Lindsey gave a mock gasp. “You wouldn’t dare!”

“Watch me. Twat.” Spike smirked.

“Bitch.” Lindsey gave him the finger as he grabbed his jacket.

The smirk widened. “You wish.”

“Asshole.”

Spike laughed and walked ahead with a swing in his hips, jacket thrown coquettishly over his shoulder. “The tightest you’d ever have if you weren’t such a prude.”

“Oh great.” Lindsey rubbed his face as he closed the door behind them. “Now I have to bleach my brain.”

“What brain?”

“Watch it, kiddo.”

Spike turned and walked backwards, grinning. “I’m watching. Can’t take my eyes off of you, cowboy.” He sighed dramatically. “You’re just so pretty.”

That earned him a hearty laugh. “That’s what my momma always used to say.”

“Well, she weren’t lying. Bet you made all the other cowboys want to go…” Spike raised his hands in airquotes. “… ‘fishing’ with you.”

“Christ, do you ever shut up?”

“Not unless you make me.” Spike puckered his lips and then ducked laughing from the swat to his head.

His car might be dead and his love life a fucking joke but at least he’d made a friend.

Life could be worse.

 


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will someone tell Lindsey he's supposed to be straight in this story? Because he's absolutely killing me here. I don't think I've ever wanted to break up my OTP before but damn, he's tempting me and that just won't do. *rips out hair*.
> 
> One thing... I know this story is a bit heavy on the OMG!being gay is so hard!!11! and I really hope it's not off-putting. For Spike I'll say this: he's had a hard life and he's a tiny bit bitter. And before you say "No one gets that much shit thrown at them" let me tell you that yes, they do. Some people seem to attract bad things for no apparent reason. Like their Karma is just shit. Spike has shit Karma but I'm hoping it's turning around soon. As for the others... misery loves company. Or something like that. Maybe I'm just too fond of my angst.
> 
> Dedicated to the sweet [](http://tx-cronopio.livejournal.com/profile)[tx_cronopio](http://tx-cronopio.livejournal.com/) on her birthday. *licks her all over*

 

“That was almost as much fun as I thought it would be. No, wait. It was _exactly_ as much fun as I thought it would be.” Spike scowled and banged his teaspoon against the rim of his coffee cup so hard he was surprised it didn’t crack. “Christ, of course it was all my fault, for being a foreigner and a fucking fairy and hey, just me. Idiots.”

Lindsey gave him a worried glance as he took a sip from his own cup. “Man, that’s just Moore. You know most of the guys like you and don’t give a flying fuck if you’re gay or straight.”

“Yeah, I know. At the moment at least. Bet you it won’t be long until it all starts up again.” His hand shook slightly as he lifted the cup to his lips. “It always does.”

“If you hate it so much, why did you become a cop in the first place?”

Spike looked up at him with a puzzled frown. “I don’t hate my job. I love it. I always wanted to be a copper.” He paused. “Well, except when I was gonna be a famous punk singer.” He snorted and stuffed a big piece of pie into his mouth.

“Yeah, I wondered about that.” Lindsey pointed accusingly at him with the spoon. “Ain’t punk all about anarchy? Hating authorities, that sort of crap? Aren’t you betraying the cause or some shit like that?”

Spike grinned. “Maybe. I never cared much about politics. I just wanted to get on stage and scream out my anger and frustration under the pretence of music.”

“I get that. Hell, that’s half the reason I go on stage. Not so much screaming though, more cursing and sweating. But what made you join the force?”

Spike pursed his lips, stirring his coffee slowly. He wondered if Lindsey was really interested or if he was just being polite. He didn’t feel like bringing up his past unless he needed to. He glanced up at the man across the table to find what seemed like genuine interest in his eyes. Well, if they were going to be friends he guessed he could just as well get it over with.

“I moved here when I was twenty. Been squatting in houses and leaching of friends for four years back home and I was sick of it. I decided to look up my grandparents back in Ireland and they pretty much told me to jump in the bloody ocean. I threatened to put up a tent in their front garden, telling everyone I was their daughter’s illegitimate gay son if they didn’t give me enough money to move here. They gave in soon enough.”

He laughed bitterly at Lindsey’s startled look. “Yeah, I’m not exactly proud of that. I’d just had enough, you know? I can take the hatred from complete strangers, although I’ll never understand it, but your family’s supposed to love you no matter what. And no one in my family ever did, not even my mum.”

He blinked, surprised to find tears in his eyes. He thought he was over this but it still hurt like hell. His mother never loved him. God. His hand shook when he lifted the cup of coffee and he spilled on the table, splattering coffee over his plate and Lindsey’s. Shit. He grabbed a handful of napkins and wiped up the mess, face flushed and the lump in his throat burning.

“Then what?”

Spike looked up to find Lindsey watching him as if nothing had happened and he gave him a small grateful smile.

“Well, I bough the cheapest flight to New York, lived in a backpackers hotel for about a month. Then by share luck I won Dru in a game of poker. The bloke was high as a kite so I thought I’d better split before he got to his senses and decided he wanted her back. Came here. Slept in the car for two weeks while doing dishes in a restaurant in Echo Park. Used my spare time and money to fix her up. Finally got a room in a basement close by the restaurant. Small but clean.”

He took a deep breath. “Then one night I got jumped when I was walking home after work. Spent the next two weeks in the hospital with a broken leg, broken ribs and a cracked skull. I had no insurance but the restaurant owner paid for my stay. He was a great bloke. The best.”

Spike gave Lindsey a sad smile. “He died last year. Heart attack. Poor sod. I never managed to pay him back and his widow won’t let me. She’s a nice lady. I go see her every now and then.”

Lindsey moved the rest of his coffee-soaked pie around with his fork. “They ever get who did it?”

“No. Some college boys. Doesn’t matter.” Spike gave a short laugh. “Shit happens, right? And then it happens again. And again. It was like I was a magnet for those bastards. Like I was wearing a big sign saying, ‘I’m gay. Hit me.’” He snorted. “Didn’t think I was that obvious although I guess the accent was enough for most of them to brand me. Anyway… I decided to fight back and joined the academy. End of story.”

“Faith told me you got beaten up by our own.” Lindsey’s voice was eerily calm. “Anyone I know?”

Spike gave him a tired smile. “Why? You out to revenge me, my knight in shining armour? ‘Cause if you are, skip it.”

Lindsey shook his head. “Not unless they bother you again. Just thought it be better to know what kind of people I’m working with.”

“It won’t tell you anything.” He held up his hand as Lindsey made to protest. “Yes, some of them jumped me but I know others were wanting to, or at least cheering them on, if not aloud. It’s just the way things are, especially in our job. This is a man’s world, as the girls will repeatedly bitch about, and in the guys’ eyes I’m not a man. Hell, I don’t know what I am to them. I don’t care. It’s their problem not mine.”

“Doesn’t make it any easier.”

Spike laughed. “No, you’ve got that right. But I can’t let it beat me, you know? And to tell the truth, it’s been better than I expected. After the first couple of weeks, things settled down and no one gave a shit anymore. I mean, there are jokes and shit like that but nothing serious. I guess I’m just feeling down now because of Dru.” He gave Lindsey a grin. “I’ll be back to my cheerful self quite soon enough.”

Lindsey nodded, then seemed to hesitate. “You know I don’t mean anything by it when I’m… I’m just yanking your chain, Will. I’m not really… you know.”

Spike snorted but stopped when he saw Lindsey was serious. “Oh bloody hell, will you just quit it? If you _stopped_ being an ass, _then_ I would start to worry.” He kicked Lindsey’s foot under the table. “Now finish that pie and let’s get out of here. I don’t know about you but I’m still hung over. Think I’ll go home for a nap.”

“That mean my driving duties are over?”

“For the time being.” He threw a ten-dollar bill on the table and gave Lindsey a smile. “You must be pretty sick of me by now.”

Lindsey grinned. “Are you kidding me? I’ve had dinner and a show and gotten envious glares from every guy in this joint for snatching the prettiest girl.”

Spike rolled his eyes but he couldn’t help smiling. “First, it was coffee and pie and a tear-filled tale of angst. And second…” He paused then shook his head. “No, that part was right. I’m definitely the prettiest in here.”

“And so modest.”

“One of my best features. Among many.”

“Sure. You wanna take it easy tonight or do you think you’d be up for making some proper music?”

Spike tilted his head in thought. “I could strum a few strings. When’s that gig of yours?”

“Saturday in two weeks. It’s mostly country. You know, ‘My dog killed itself and my girl ran off with my poppa.’ That kind of shit.” Lindsey laughed at the look on Spike’s face. “I’m fucking with you. It’s country but more rock though. Trust me, you’ll like it.”

“Right.” Spike gave him a sceptical look. “You show me what you’ve got and then I’ll play you some real music.”

“Oh God. Should I bring earplugs?”

“For me then, you mean, when you start wailing about your dog?”

“Talking about dogs, what was that nickname of yours again?”

“Shut up.”

Lindsey threw back his head and laughed as the truck roared to life. “Spikeeey… Here doggie doggie doggie.”

“Watch it or I’ll hump your bloody leg.”

“As long as you don’t pee on me.”

\----------------------------

Liam cursed and threw his cell phone down on the couch before dropping his head in his hands with a groan. He had a killer headache and his stomach was clenched like a tight fist. Shit.

He’d figured Spike would be pissed but he’d never expected to be cut out of his life completely. Liam had tried reaching him all night and all morning but only gotten his voicemail and answering machine. Not that he had any idea what to say. ‘Sorry’ or ‘Are you okay?’ didn’t really seem to cut it.

He felt like a fucking asshole and rightly so. When he’d realised whom the car belonged to he had panicked. That was the only word for it. If he could have he would have ran away before Will got there. As it was all he could do was stand to the side and watch his… friend? Potential lover? God, he didn’t even know. All he did know was that he should have walked up to Spike. Should have stood beside him. Should have fucking said something. Tell him he was sorry. That he knew how much the car meant to him. That they would get whoever did this. That he was there for him.

Instead he watched Lindsey greet Spike, giving him the support Liam should have been giving. His feet had itched to start walking, to go over there and hold the obviously shocked man close. God, he was just a kid. He didn’t deserve any of this. Spike had suddenly turned his head and Liam quickly looked away before he’d catch his eye. A coward’s way out but he knew he couldn’t face Spike and _not_ storm over there to pull him into a hug.

When he chanced a glance back it was to see the defeated hunch of Spike’s shoulders and then the colour drain from his face as he looked down at the object in Lindsey’s hand. Liam didn’t need to come closer to know what it was. He’d shaken with anger when he’d seen the hateful words scribbled across the mirror.

He’d watched Faith walk over to join them, fury in every step. If they both could, why couldn’t he? Why was he still standing here, acting as if this had nothing at all to do with him? As if one of his friends wasn’t standing there, hurt and scared. God, what kind of asshole was he? He’d taken a deep breath and was about to take a step forward when Jesse poked him in the ribs and asked if he was done drooling over that Faith girl.

“Sure she’s cute but she’d never let you top, man. Not that I would mind being her bitch,” he’d added wistfully.

“Jesse, you’re everyone’s bitch,” Gunn had shouted and everyone started laughing.

Liam heard himself joining in even if his heart was still hammering and he avoided Gunn’s pointed stare. When he looked back Lindsay and Spike were walking to what he assumed was Lindsey’s truck. He felt a sting of jealousy that was ridiculous. As far as he knew Lindsey wasn’t gay and therefore no threat. And Spike could use a friend right now. It was all good. Lindsey would drive Spike home and in about an hour Liam was off his shift and he could go over and explain. He had no idea how but he had to make sure Spike knew he’d wanted to be there for him. He just couldn’t, not in front of everyone. It would be okay. Everything would be fine.

Except now it was almost 20 hours later and Spike wasn’t taking his calls or answering his messages and Liam was getting way beyond worried. He thought of driving by Spike’s place when he realised he didn’t even know where Spike lived. Not like he could call Lindsey to ask if he knew where Spike was.

The reality of the situation suddenly struck him. No one except Gunn knew they even knew each other. If anything happened to Spike he wouldn’t know. Spike could be hurt, or even killed, on the job and no one would think of telling Liam. It was even worse than with Billy because everyone had known they were friends, before ‘it’ happened, and they worked together. Billy wouldn’t have been able to burn his finger without Liam knowing about it. But Spike…

Liam suddenly grabbed the phone and dialled Gunn’s home number. It rang for a few minutes before a tired voice answered.

_“Hello?”_

“Fred? I’m sorry, did I wake you?”

_“It’s alright, Liam. I was just resting.”_

“Sorry. Gunn there?”

_“He went out. I had a sudden craving for cantaloupe. What’s up?”_

He hesitated, biting his lip before answering. “Did he… Did he say anything about Will?”

There was a pause on the other line, then she cleared her throat. _“Yeah. You talk to him yet?”_

“I’ve tried. He’s not answering.”

_“Now Liam, it’s non of my business but what you did? Hell, I wouldn’t talk to you if I were him.”_

He cringed. “I know. I just…”

_“Yeah, I know. I don’t get it but it’s your life and I guess you got to live it your way. But you can’t expect him to stick around when you pretty much turn your back on him.”_

“I didn’t…”

_“Yes, you did. I suggest you practice your grovelling, mister.”_

“How can I grovel when he won’t pick up his phone? I just… I need to talk to him. And I don’t even know where he lives. Can you ask Gunn if he can find out?”

She sighed. _“Yeah, alright. Liam?”_

“Yeah?”

_“Look… If this is how you’re planning your relationship with him, if you’re gonna have it just like you did with Billy… Let him go.”_

“What?”

_“Tell me it’s none of my business. Tell me I don’t have a damn clue what it’s like. You’d be right. Still doesn’t change the fact that you can’t ask him to change his whole life for you. Being with you doesn’t just mean he has to hide that you‘re together, it means he has to lie about everything. Something I guess he’s already doing for you. Can you really ask that of him? You really think that’s fair?”_

He clenched his jaw. “You’re right. It’s non of your business.”

_“Lia-“_

He snapped his phone shut and threw it back down on the couch. Who the hell did she think she was? She had no idea. No fucking idea what it was like.

He’d tried the whole being open thing. He still had the marks from his father’s beating etched into his skin and more importantly his memory. Could still feel every lash of the belt hitting his back, slashing it open. And when his father stood back and said they would never mention this again that was what he did. Never mentioned it.

His father had been dead six years and he still held his son’s whole life in his clenched fist.

Liam got up and walked into the kitchen, throwing the fridge open. A couple of beers stood innocently on the shelf. He grabbed one, twisted it open, and emptied it in one go. It didn’t make him feel any better. He chucked the empty bottle into the trash and grabbed the other, pausing only for a second before opening it as well.

He drank slower this time, savouring the taste. He’d kept to only one at a time since that whole attempted suicide thing happened, which frankly, he still didn’t get. He wasn’t depressed. Not really. It must have been the alcohol, messing with his brain. He probably never would have gone through with it even if he hadn’t called Spike. He would have come to his senses, he was sure of it. Obviously he had to be careful when drinking. Not like he was an alcoholic or anything. He just had a tendency to get carried away if he drank too much, that was all.

Liam closed the fridge and stared right into Billy’s smiling eyes.

_“Liam?”_  
“Yeah?”  
“Last night… can we not do that again?”  
“What?”  
“You know…”  
“No. What?”  
“Nothing. Nevermind.”  
“No, tell me. What did we do?”  
“You don’t remember?”  
“We got drunk. We had sex. Nothing new.”  
“You… hurt me.”  
“What!?!”  
“It was too rough. I didn’t like it.”  
“God, Billy. Why didn’t you say something?”  
“I did. You didn’t listen.”  
“Jesus. I’m so sorry, baby.”  
“It’s… it’s okay. Don’t worry about it.”  
Suddenly Billy’s smile didn’t seem as genuine, his eyes not as bright. Liam sucked in his breath and put the beer down. Then grabbed it again and gulped down the rest before adding it to the trash, his breathing laboured and sweat running down his back.

It was too quiet, the silence filling the apartment like smoke, suffocating him. He’d forgotten how damn quiet this place was when there was just him and all those damn memories pounding in his brain. He felt slightly sick, the taste of beer and bile burping its way up his throat. He needed to get out of here. Needed…

He needed Spike.

Liam straightened up with a snap and turned on his heels, marching into the living room. He grabbed the cell from the couch and his jacket from the stand by the door. He dialled the number while jogging down the stairs, only hesitating slightly when asked for his name and then requested the number to Lindsey’s cell phone.

He was in the car when the call got picked up with a breathless _“Yeah?”_ but before he could get the words out there was the sound of low chuckle that he would recognise anywhere, breathed close enough to brush static over the line. _“Christ, luv. That was… wow. Think you blew my brains out with that.”_

Liam snapped the phone shut so fast it slipped from his hand and tumbled onto the floor. They were… Jesus! His head roared with the blood rushing to it, his knuckles shone white on the steering wheel as he clutched it hard. Will. And Lindsey. They were…

Clenching his jaw so hard he thought his teeth might shatter he started the car and put it in gear.

To hell with it all.

\-----------------------

 

“That was great, mate. Haven’t had so much fun in ages.” Spike leaned back and smiled, a bottle of beer dangling from his fingers, the guitar resting on his lap. “Even if it was country,” he added with a smirk.

“And your shit wasn’t that bad either. Even if it was punk,” Lindsey grinned and ducked when Spike faked clocking him with the beer. “Watch it!”

Spike just laughed and put the beer on the table before lifting the guitar of his lap and resting it against the couch. “Nice instrument you have there.”

At Lindsey’s raised eyebrows he rolled his eyes and said,” The guitar, you bloody idiot. You have sex on the brain, mate.”

“Nah, I just like riling you up.”

“Right.” Spike grinned. “Whatever you say, sweetheart. So… what’s with you and Faith?”

Christ, was the guy actually blushing?

“Nothing. She’s my partner. Get your mind out of the gutter.”

“Don’t you know by now? My mind never leaves the gutter. But she’s quite something, right?” Spike elbowed him lightly. “Bet she’d be wild in bed. Like a tiger.”

“Dude!”

Oh yeah, definitely blushing.

“Aaww, me thinks someone has a crush. So why don’t you go for it?”

“Are you kidding? She’d probably rip my balls off and wear them as earrings. Plus she has a thing with someone. I think.”

“Yeah? Who?”

“You remember Wood from the Academy? Taught weapon training.”

“You’re kidding me! She’s dating him?”

“I don’t know. I’ve seen them together sometimes.” Lindsey shrugged. “Not that I would make a move anyway. Bad idea hooking up with your partner. Makes you lose focus and if things go sour you’re screwed.”

Spike nodded. “I guess. But then again, if it did, you could always partner with me,” he quipped and reached over to punch Lindsey lightly in the arm.

Lindsey snorted. “I’d spend half my time keeping my ass from your grabby hands and the other half rescuing you from gay bashers. No thanks.”

Spike stilled. “Yeah, because I’m such a weak kitty, I need someone to babysit me.” He smiled but the joke was sour and he stood up. “Think I’ll be heading home.”

Lindsey frowned up at him. “Man, I was joking. Don’t be such a drama queen. I know you’re a good cop.”

Spike stood silent for a while then he looked down at Lindsey, all laughter gone. “Doesn’t matter how good of a cop I am, Lindsey. And I’m sorry but I don’t find the prospect of being beaten up, again, to be funny. There are only about three coppers out there that I trust would _have_ my back instead of turning theirs and you’re one of them. So yeah, I’m probably gonna need rescuing some day. And chances are none of you will be there. I don’t think you realise what that feels like, knowing it’s not a matter of ‘if’ but ‘when’. Only question is how many times it will happen before they kill me.”

“Spike…”

He waved his hand dismissively. “I know what you’re gonna say. That most gay people walk through their lives without ever having anything like that happen to them. Well, I’m not them. I’m cursed, or so it seems. I’ve had more bones broken by steel-toed boots than you’d care to count. I’ve had my teeth smashed in and my head cracked and my fucking arse-“ He stopped, breath heaving. “I’m like a bloody magnet for those fuckers but I’m not quitting. I’m not giving up and I’m not gonna hide behind you or anyone else. I can only count on myself and that’s what I do. But I still like to know that if it came to it whoever I am partnered with will be there for me.” He swallowed. “Kate’s waiting to be transferred and it scares the shit out of me that I might end up with someone who…” He stopped again then shook his head. “That’s all.”

“She’s being transferred? Why?”

“That man of hers got a job in New York. They’re leaving in a couple of months.”

“Well… shit. That’s not good. She’s one of the best.”

“I know. I was lucky to get her. There are only so many women on the force, you know? Wanna bet they partner me with Summers?” He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I mean, she’s good but she never ever shuts up. And she treats me like her bloody girlfriend. One day I’m gonna whip it out and show her that just because I’m gay doesn’t mean I have a fucking vagina.”

Lindsey snorted. “That probably _would_ shut her up. I say go for it.” He frowned and tilted his head. “Why would they only partner you with women?”

Spike gave him a pointed look. “Why do you think? The guys that aren’t waiting for a chance to kick me are sure I’m gonna make a move on them. Because, being gay, I can’t keep my hands to myself and want to fuck everything with a dick. Didn’t you know that’s what we’re like? Every fucking one of us?” His voice was bitter and he grabbed the beer, finishing it in one draft before wiping his mouth with the back off his hand. “You know, when we aren’t raping babies or spreading the gay virus.”

Lindsey stood up and grabbed the beer from his hand. “Ok, calm down.” He pushed Spike to sit down on the couch and settled down beside him. “Listen, I know I can never understand what it feels like…”

“Too right you can’t.”

“But you can’t let it consume you like this. It’s not your problem, it’s theirs. You said it yourself. Fuck them.”

“I say all kinds of shit. Doesn’t mean I believe any of it. Plus it kinda becomes my problem when they break my fucking neck.”

Lindsey sighed. “I swear, Spike, if anyone lays a hand on you I’ll fucking kill them, ok?”

Spike looked up at him. “I don’t get it. I don’t…” He shook his head

“What?”

“Why are you doing this? Why are you being nice? What the hell did I ever do to make you like me?”

There was silence for a while and when he looked up Lindsey was watching him with hooded eyes.

“Linds?”

Lindsey stood up and walked into the kitchen, coming back a moment later with two new beers. He handed one to Spike and he accepted it, taking a sip while waiting for Lindsey to settle down. There was a moment’s silence and the Lindsey cleared his throat.

“I had a best friend back home. He was… like every American girl’s dream. Tall, blond, captain of the football team. Went out with the prettiest cheerleader. But he wasn’t your average smartass jock. Just funny and kind and the best friend you could wish for. He looked after me from the day we met. I’ve always been short but I used to be scrawny as hell and if he hadn’t been there I would have gotten my ass kicked every other day. When things got too bad at home he’d take me to his house and his momma would hold me and rock me while I cried. It was like my second home. A much better home. I loved that guy more than anyone in my own family.”

“You were…?”

“No. Not like that. Not on my part anyway. I don’t know about him. See, one day I got to school and everyone was in a buzz. Talking and whispering and some girls were crying. And when they saw me they shut up and I had no idea what the fuck was going on. Until one of the guys on his team came over and asked me if I’d known. I must have looked right stupid because he just looked at me with disgust and said, ‘Course you knew. You’ve probably been sucking his dick since kindergarten.’ Of course I punched him even if I still had no idea what he was talking about.”

“Christ.”

“Turns out my best friend had been caught in bed with a member of his team. A junior. His poppa got his shotgun and put a buckload of bullets in my friends head, right there in his son’s bedroom. He was dead before he hit the floor. Didn’t even have time to put his pants on.”

“Jesus!”

“The fucker only got a couple of years. They called it selfdefence, like he’d been attacking the guy. It was all lies. His son got shipped to military school. And I got the hell out of that place as soon as I could.”

They sat silent for a while and then Spike looked up, watching him. “You never knew.”

“No. No idea. And that hurts like hell, you know, that he didn’t trust me enough to tell me.”

“What would you have done if he had?”

Lindsey shook his head. “I don’t know. That’s the thing. Back then… I’d love to say I would have been cool about it but truth is I probably would have freaked out. I’d come around eventually, I think, but first reaction? I probably would have walked out on him, despite everything he was to me.”

“You don’t know that.”

“No. But the possibility made me hate myself. And knowing that he thought he couldn’t trust me… I decided I didn’t want to be that guy. I wanted to be the kind of man that he would have had no trouble turning to. Doesn’t matter to me if someone’s gay or straight, black or white, whatever. I judge people for who they are not _what_ they are or who the fuck they sleep with.” He looked up at Spike. “I didn’t become friends with you because you’re gay but because you’re you. The gay thing doesn’t matter to me. Except it gives me an opportunity to learn more about what it’s like. Ok?”

Spike nodded slowly. “Ok.”

“Doesn’t mean I wanna talk about buttsex or sing _I will survive_ or some shit like that though.” He gave a small smile. “Can’t really reach those high tones anyway.”

Spike smiled back. “You could always sing that Willie Nelson song.”

Lindsey chuckled. “Yeah well, I’ll think about it.”

They sat quiet for a while and then Spike reached out and laid his hand on Lindsey’s shoulder. “I’m sorry I overreacted. Earlier, I mean. I just hate it when people see me as weak or treat me like a bloody bint. I’m taller than you!”

“Standing on a chair maybe.” Lindsey grinned. “And I get it, man. I kept getting shit for being short. I’ve been in my share of fights. People are dicks. You just gotta show them you’re tough. By kicking their teeth in if you have to.”

“Yeah. I guess.” Spike shrugged. “Until now they’ve usually kicked my teeth in though.”

“Didn’t they train you at the Academy?”

“Yeah, but only the basics. It’s not like they were training us for SWAT or anything.”

“I could teach you. We could spar.” He grinned. “You’d like that, you horn dog. You and me, half-naked and sweaty, wrestling on the floor. There could be oiled involved…”

“Christ.” Spike groaned and shook his head. “I’m not a saint, you know. If you keep this up, one day I _will_ lay one on you.”

“What? You gonna punch me?”

He locked his eyes with Lindsey’s. “Kiss you, you idiot. You keep taunting me and I might just kiss you.”

“Oh.” Lindsey frowned. “Really? I make you hot? This shit turns you on?”

“Yes.” Spike blushed. “You’re a good looking bloke, Linds. And I’m only human. I know you’re not gay but you’re still hot as hell and you might not realise it but you’re flirting like a two-dollar prostitute. All the time. I mean, it’s fun, but it’s also frustrating when I’m all hot and bothered and can’t do anything about it.”  
  
“Huh.” Lindsey seemed honestly surprised. “You could always go to the bathroom and jerk off. You can think of me if you want to, I don’t mind.”

“Jesus! Don’t say stuff like that.”

“What? I’m being supportive and understanding.”

“You’re being a cocktease, that’s what,” Spike pouted. “It’s not bloody fair. You not being gay.”

“Tell you something,” Lindsey said, laying one hand on Spike’s thigh. “I’m not close minded. Get me drunk enough and I might go for it.”

“That’s the second time you’ve said that.” Spike tilted his head studying him. “Something you wanna tell me?”

“No.”

“Because I’m not going to get you drunk just so I can kiss you.”

“Man, I like being drunk,” Lindsey snorted and stood up, walking into the kitchen to grab them two more beers. Spike waited patiently until he was settled down, each with a cool bottle in their hand.

“That’s not the point. If you don’t want it sober I’m not gonna trick you into wanting it when you’re drunk.”

“Christ, you’re way too nice.” Lindsey smiled. “Ok, how about this? We go out, we both get drunk, I kiss you and you kiss a woman. That seems fair.”

“You’re such an idiot, you know that?” Spike snorted.

“No, see. I was watching Oprah…”

“You watch Oprah? Oh my God, you _are_ gay.”

“Shut up. I was hung over. Oprah is great for hangovers. Anyway, I was watching Oprah and there was this chick talking about sexuality and how everyone is at least a little gay. Like, we have the gene but whether we use it or not depends on the circumstances. If we never meet anyone we’d like that way it never gets activated. But if we do…” He shrugged but he was slightly flushed and refused to meet Spike’s eyes.

Spike watched him quietly then reached out and brushed the hair out of Lindsey’s face. “Tell you what, if we do get drunk and you feel like kissing me just do it. Just promise me it won’t be weird the morning after.”

Lindsey’s lips twitched and then he looked up with a twinkle in his eye. “Unless I wake up with a condom hanging out of my ass I think we’ll be good.”  
  



	12. Chapter 12

He was tired and cranky the next day. A few too many beers and way too much soul-searching for him to get a decent night’s sleep. He’d lain in bed, his thoughts switching from Liam to Lindsey and when he finally gave in and jerked off his dick couldn’t even decide which one it wanted.

No, that wasn’t true. He wanted Liam, he couldn’t deny that even if he wanted to. There was just something about that man that caught a hold of his heart and refused to let go. Lindsey… It was the comfort of friendship and trust that was drawing him to Lindsey.

That was the thing, he didn’t trust Liam. Not at all. Couldn’t trust him to watch his back or stand up for him. Couldn’t trust him not to break his heart into tiny little pieces and stomp on them. It was a bitter truth to come to terms with. How can you love someone if you don’t trust them?

When he finally fell asleep he dreamt of the fire for the first time since he woke up at the hospital. He was fighting his way through the smoke and heat with the little girl in his arms. Just like that day it overwhelmed him and he fell down, trying to shield her with his body. Liam took the girl from his arms, gave her to Gunn and then… he turned around and walked away. Spike woke up sweating and trembling, the memory of the flames licking his face so real he had to check himself in the bathroom mirror to be sure he wasn’t burned.

Kate was quiet as well. Ever since she’d told him she was moving away she’d been withdrawn and worried and he knew she felt guilty for leaving him hanging. He didn’t blame her though, he was just nervous about the future. If he had to be with that Summers girl every day it would drive him insane.

It was also time to face Liam. He’d ignored him for two days but this morning he’d flickered through the text messages and Liam seemed worried and guilt ridden, almost shameful. Served him right. The rising desperation in his texts still went to Spike’s heart and he felt a tiny bit bad for not returning any of Liam’s calls. So when he finally got home he sat down, phone in hand, and took a deep breath before dialling Liam’s number. It rang for a long while and just as he was about to hang up there was a click and a rough voice said, _“Hello?”_

“Liam. Hi.”

There was a loud bang on the other end of the line and he could hear the sound of glass clinging. Oh great.

_“Will? Thank god. Are you…?”_

“Are you drunk?”

_“What? No! I mean, yes, but…”_

“Call me when you’re sober.”

Spike snapped the cell shut, clutching it in his fist, the heel of his other hand pressed to his forehead. Fuck. Why the hell couldn’t he just cut Liam out of his life?

The cell rang in his hand but one look at the display showed it was Liam and he threw it away in disgust. He was going to take a shower, then he was going out to buy something to eat and then… Then he might call Liam again.

It was eight by the time he got home again. The light on his answering machine was blinking. He still hadn’t listened to any of his voice messages since that day and frankly he’d rather erase them than go through them. Finally though he reached out and pushed the button.

_“Fuck, Will. I’m so sorry. I panicked. I didn’t know what to do. Please. Call me.”_

Beep.

_“Will, please just talk to me. I’m worried. I don’t even know where you live. Please.”_

Beep.

It went on like that for a while, message after message, but then suddenly the tone changed.

_“I know you were with him. He fuck you? You let that little shit fuck you and you won’t even-”_

The message cut off and Spike stared at the phone in horror. Liam was obviously drunk out of his skull but that didn’t explain why he thought…

Beep.

_“You whore. No, he’s the whore. He’s not even gay, you moron. You…”_

Beep.

_“Will, I don’t care. If you were with him. I just want… Please call me.”_

Beep.

_“I loved him. So much. And you… you are so much like him but you’re not him. I know you’re not him. And… I don’t want to love you. I don’t. Because it’s all just shit and people die and… God, he died. He died. My Billy. God. Will… Please. I can’t do this. I can’t do this without you.”_

Beep.

_“Will, I’m sorry. I’m not drunk. I’m hung over but I’m not drunk. Please. Call me. Please.”_

That was the last one. All the drunkenness was gone from Liam’s voice. He just sounded tired and depressed. Spike stood frozen for a moment and then he grabbed his jacket and stormed back out.

It took him a little over twenty minutes to walk over to Liam’s apartment. The lights were on in the windows that faced the street and he could see a dark figure moving behind the curtains. For a moment he stood still, hidden by the shadows as he watched Liam pace back and forth. When the curtains suddenly moved Spike stepped out of the shadows and moved to the door, pressing the buzzer. It buzzed back immediately and he pushed the door open and jogged up the stairs.

Liam was waiting for him in the doorway to his apartment. He was pink-faced and clean-shaven, his jeans freshly laundered and the t-shirt still had creases from where it’d been folded. It was so obvious that Liam had made the best effort he could to look presentable and just for that Spike felt some of his anger melt away.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

Liam swallowed and then stepped aside to let him in. Spike slipped past him and looked around in surprise. The apartment was tidy and even if it could use some dusting and mopping it looked better than Spike could ever remember seeing it. Well, apart from the time he’d cleaned it himself. The air was still a bit stale but the windows were open, allowing the cool night breeze to sweep through.

He gave Liam a small nod of approval and the relief on his face was almost enough to make Spike smile. Almost. Instead he walked over to the couch and sat down before raising his eyebrow at Liam.

“Ok, I’m here. Spill.”

Liam shifted from one foot to the other, eyes darting all over the room. “I just…” He stopped and bit his lip.

“How about you start by sitting down? Your fidgeting is making me bloody nervous.”

Liam nodded and sat down at the other end of the couch, staring down at his hands clasped between his knees. They sat in silence for a while and then Spike gave him a small nudge.

“You just…?” he encouraged, sighing when Liam raised his head and gave him a confused look. “You were saying, ‘you just…’ what?”

Liam frowned. “I…” He stopped again.

Spike rolled his eyes. “All right. Let’s try this: ‘Spike, I’m sorry about your car.’ How’s that?”

The guilt on Liam’s face increased tenfold. “God, I _am_ so sorry about your car. I know how much it meant to you. I mean _she._ I know how much _she_ meant to you. And I swear, when I find out who did it I’ll rip his lungs out.”

Spike nodded solemnly. “As long as no one’s looking, right?”

Liam dropped his head in his hands. “Will, please… I panicked. I saw it was your car and then I saw what they’d scribbled on the mirror and… I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t… I’m so sorry. Please, Will.”

“You know, Lindsey came over. Faith came over. It wasn’t even their bloody shift and they came anyway, just to see if I was ok. And I bet not one of your mates made a joke about either of them being gay. Am I right?”

Liam blushed, looking just as uncomfortable as Spike wanted him to feel. “It’s not the same.”

“No? Why? Why is it any different?” Spike leaned back, his anger grabbing hold of him again. “You think if someone sees you talking to me a big fucking rainbow will shoot out of your bloody arse? That’s it? Think there will appear a big pink sign above your head with an arrow pointing down, saying “Here’s Liam, the big fat fairy.” Seriously, that’s what you think?”

“No! Stop… Don’t joke! It’s not a fucking joke, Will!”

“No, it’s not. It’s about me being able to trust you because I thought we were friends. And I don’t. I don’t trust you at all, Liam.”

Liam gazed at him, eyes pleading. “We are friends. And you _can_ trust me, I swear.”

“No. I can’t. I can’t, Liam. And until you prove to me that I can…” Spike sighed and shook his head. “I’m not sure I should be coming here.”

“Please. Please don’t say that. How am I supposed to prove it anyway if you’re not here?”

Spike shook his head. “I don’t know. I don’t know, Liam.” He stood up and walked to the door but hesitated with his hand on the knob and turned to face Liam again.

“Know what I dreamt last night? I dreamt that you left me in that house. That you turned and walked away, leaving me to burn.” He raised his hand when Liam opened his mouth to protest. “I know. I know you would never do that. Not in a real fire. But let’s say for a moment that that house represents my life and that fire stands for all the shit that can happen to a person. Would you stay and save me, even if it meant you might get burnt, or would you turn and walk away? That’s what I’m wondering. And right now? I believe you would walk away.”

He took a deep breath and looked Liam straight in the eye. “I need to believe you would stay. That you would try everything you could to save me. Because that’s what a real friend would do. That’s what… That’s what the man I’d want for a lover would do.”

Liam just sat there, blinking, and then he bowed his head in defeat. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop saying you’re sorry. It doesn’t mean anything, Liam. It doesn’t mean a sodding shit when you’re still not doing anything to prove to me that the exact thing won’t happen again. Do you understand?”

Liam nodded and, after a moment’s pause, added, “Are you… Are you and Lindsey…?”

Spike sighed. “He’s a friend and yes, him I _do_ trust. I’m not fucking him though if that’s what you’re asking. Two men actually can be friends without fucking.” He rolled his eyes when Liam stiffened at his words. “He’s not even gay, for fuck’s sake. And even if he were? He’s still not you. And it’s probably proof that I’m a bloody idiot but you’re the one I’m in love with, you arrogant selfish prick.”

And with that he turned around and stormed out.

He wasn’t even halfway down the stairs when his legs started shaking and he paused for a moment, trying to calm himself before continuing down and out the door. It was close to nine o’clock and the street was dark enough to make him hunch his shoulder and quicken his steps. This was the main reason why he never went out on foot after dark. Once burnt and all that, and how ironic was that metaphor in view of what had just gone down.

The worst part was that he still understood Liam, still felt pity for him, and he hated it. He wanted to feel nothing but anger and hurt, wanted to paint Liam as the big ogre, but hadn’t he been in that situation himself once? Granted it was a long time ago, while he was still a teenager, but he’d stood by, watching his schoolmates bully a boy for being “too bloody queer.” Hadn’t stepped forward until they pushed the boy down and started kicking him, all the while shouting and yelling all the hateful words they’d probably learnt from their parents.

Of course it didn’t do much good, at thirteen he was hardly a force to be reckoned with, and apart from the broken hand and multiple bruises he earned, he was also labelled from that day on as “one of them”. Had his friends turn on him, his teachers either ignore him or punish him with low grades and detentions he’d done nothing to deserve.

Funny thing was, at that age he hadn’t even realised he was gay. Late bloomer or what, he’d had his head too buried in comics and his thoughts too consumed by music to spare his sexuality any thought. So he hadn’t found the need to look up girls’ skirts or stare at Molly Henderson’s unusually big knockers but at the same time he wasn’t looking at boys either so really, he had no idea. He just knew it was wrong to kick someone for being a queer. Paul at the comic store was gay and he was a great bloke and it was probably the thought of those boys beating someone like him up just for being what he was that had propelled young Will to act. Or maybe his subconscious had known, even if he hadn’t realised it himself. Whatever it was it had made his life in school living hell and he’d be lying if he said he’d never regretted stepping forward. No one wants that kind of attention, and even if now he was proud of his thirteen year old self, more times than not he’d been irrationally angry with not only himself but the poor boy he’d defended as well, for bringing this upon him.

The problem with Liam was that he was still that thirteen year old boy, watching the bullies, and he’d never stepped forward. He’d never made that choice. He needed to grow up, to face what he was and what he wanted to do with his life. He needed to stop hiding. And no matter how eager Spike was to shove Liam out of the bloody closet, it wasn’t his place. No one could open that particular door but Liam himself and the question was, after thirty years of living a lie, would he ever be able to? Maybe it was too late. Maybe he would never come out. Was Spike ready to be Liam’s dirty little secret if that was the only way he could have him?

However much it pained him he knew the answer was no. If it came to choosing between being with Liam, with hidden rendezvous and pretending they didn’t even know each other, and being himself, open and out and free to tell the world if he loved someone… He’d choose his freedom any day. However much he loved Liam - and how fucking cruel was it that he had to fall in love with someone like that anyway? – he couldn’t betray his own life for him.

Suddenly transferring, like Kate was doing, didn’t seem like such a bad idea. If that was what it came down to he’d rather lick his wounds somewhere else than here, where he could run into Liam any day. He might be strong but he wasn’t that strong.

\------------------

The first week went by incredibly slow. He’d gotten used to spending his evenings with Liam and his own apartment seemed too cold and silent. On Friday night Lindsey invited him over for beer and they practiced again the songs Spike planned on joining in on at The Tequila. It was only a couple, both of them more rock than country, and Spike had found himself humming them under his breath at all hours.

“This is gonna be great,” Lindsey said and they clinked their bottles of beer together in triumph. He took a big gulp and swallowed it down before adding, almost casually enough to be believable, “I invited Faith to the gig. Hope that’s alright?”

Spike smirked. “Sure. She coming alone or do I have to distract a certain Wood for you?”

“Shut up. And yes, she’s coming alone as far as I know.” Lindsey allowed himself a small grin. “Guess Wood’s not much of a country fan.”

“His loss. And I’m talking about the girl, not the music, just so we’re clear,” he added with a quirk of his eyebrow. “I still can’t believe I’m going to sing country songs in public. Sid Vicious will be weeping in his grave.”

Lindsey laughed and shook his head. “Country _rock._ There’s a difference.”

“You’re right. Instead of your dog being run over by a truck and your girlfriend marrying your papa it’s the other way around.”

“Haha. Funny.” Lindsey finished his beer and put it down. “You inviting anyone? And by anyone I mean Liam.”

Spike could feel himself blushing and cursed inwardly. “Don’t think he’s much of a country fan either. And for your information we’re not exactly speaking these days.”

“Is that so?” Lindsey studied him thoughtfully. “Your boy in the dog house?”

“Something like that,” Spike said dismissively and picked up the guitar, strumming a few tunes. “One more time?”

Lindsey held his gaze for a while and then he nodded and reached for his own. “Sure. From the top?”

“No better place.”

“And here I always pictured you for a bottom.”

“That’s just because you like my arse.” Spike grinned amicably. “That’s alright, it’s a nice arse.”

“Almost as nice as mine.”

“Really? Feel free to show it to me anytime.”

“Yeah? Well, if you…” Lindsey paused then laughed and shook his head. “Why do we keep doing that?”

“Because we have no one else to flirt with?” Spike answered, smiling as well. “It’s a bit pathetic.”

“Speak for yourself. I’m thinking of it as practice. By the time I get up the courage to hit on Faith, I’ll be all set.” Lindsey winked.

Spike chuckled. “Maybe we should stay away from the cock-in-arse jokes then. From what I hear girls don’t usually go for that until the fourth date,” he joked.

Lindsey rolled his eyes. “Yeah, right. I don’t know what kind of girls you know but the ones I’ve been with have kept strictly to the front gate no matter how many dates.”

“Well, you Americans are all prudes...” At Lindsey’s pointed look he frowned. “Seriously? No backstage pass at all?”

“No.” Lindsey shifted slightly on the couch and… were his cheeks going pink? “I mean, there’s no fun for girls there, right? Why would they want it?”

“I’m not sure I’m the best person to explain the hows and whats of various positions when it comes to sleeping with girls but from what I‘ve heard they can enjoy it quite a bit.” Spike elbowed him playfully. “And Faith strikes me as just the kind of girl who might be up for it.”

Oh yeah, that was a definite blush.

“Funny. Think I’ll stick to the regular sex.”

“Ah well. But if you do decide to go there?” Spike tried his best to look serious. “The key words are ‘slow’ and ‘lube’ and not in that order.”

He laughed at Lindsey’s obvious discomfort, especially when Lindsey glared at him and said, “So how about that song?” before strumming the guitar almost hard enough to break a string.


	13. Chapter 13

Liam lifted his glass and took a sip of water before giving Fred a smile. “That was great, thank you.”

She smiled back and looked up at her husband who was clearing the table. “Not like I did much. Kept my feet up on the couch while my man slaved away in the kitchen.” She rubbed her belly and grimaced slightly. “Damn, they sure like their spicy food. Stop kicking so hard, you little monsters.”

Liam smiled as a hard kick stretched her t-shirt even further. “You all set for the big day?”

“As set as you can get. I still can’t believe it, you know? In one week I’m gonna have them in my arms. It seems so unreal.”

Liam nodded. He’d never considered having kids himself but he found himself looking forward to the birth of Gunn and Fred’s twins as if they were his own family. In a way he guessed they were. “Your mom coming up for the birth?”

She bit her lip and glanced at Gunn who reached out to stroke her hair before grabbing the used napkins, taking them out into the kitchen without a word.

“Did I say something wrong?”

“No. My momma… Well, she wanted to come but… daddy’s not exactly thrilled about this whole thing.”

Liam frowned. “Why? I’d thought he’d be excited to meet his grandchildren.”

She gave him a sad smile. “You’re not the only one that’s made life choices people don’t agree with. I mean, my sister down in Houston? She’s got three kids now and my daddy, he dotes on them like they’re the sun and the moon and all the stars in Heaven. But then again, she married a white man,” she added with a shrug, as if it was nothing.

“Oh.” He didn’t know what to say. He’d known them for years and somehow he’d never questioned their relationship at all or thought of what other people might think of it. He wasn’t completely unaware of the irony.

She nodded and he could clearly see the hurt she was trying to hide. “Yeah. Oh.”

She hesitated, but then they could hear the tabs being turned on in the kitchen and the sound of dishes in the sink and she turned serious. “Listen, Liam. I’m sorry about the other day. You were right, it was none of my business. It’s your life and…”

“He doesn’t trust me.” The words were out before he’d even thought them. “That’s what he told me. That he doesn’t trust me to have his back if anything happened to him. And he’s right. He shouldn’t trust me. And _you_ were right, I shouldn’t expect him to be with someone like me.”

Her eyes turned soft. “Liam…”

“No. It’s alright. I’m not…” He averted his eyes, swallowing the bile in his throat. “I’ve had this last week to think and… I’m not making excuses anymore. I’m looking at the facts and they tell me I should let him go. That it will never work because he deserves better. Because I can never be the man he needs.”

“Don’t say that.”

“But the thing is…” he continued. “I want to be that man. The thought of losing him…” Liam took a deep breath and looked up at her. “It’s worse than the thought of people finding out.”

“Oh Liam.” She hitched her breath, tears in her eyes, and he reached out for her with worry as she wiped them away. “Damn hormones making me cry like a goddamn baby. Just ignore me, I’m fine.” She smiled proudly at him and he could feel himself blushing. “So what do you wanna do?”

“I don’t know.” He shook his head. “I wish I was there yet but I’m not ready to walk into the station with the rainbow flag, you know? But maybe I can start small. Just… I don’t know. You think he’d be okay with me taking him out on a date?”

“Kinda depends on where you’re planning on taking him.”

“No dark alley bars, I promise.”

She thought for a while. “Ok, how about this? Call him and ask him if he wants to go out for a drink. If he says yes tell him to come meet you at the firehouse when you get off your shift.”

Liam could feel his heart speed up and his stomach twisting into a knot. “Ok. I can do that. I think.”

“You don’t have to kiss him or anything. Just don’t hide that you’re friends.”

He blushed. “We’re not doing that anyway. We haven’t… we haven’t really done anything.”

She cocked her head. “You’re kidding, right? You sure he’s gay, honey? Because damn, I’d have you if I wasn’t married and pregnant and all.”

“I heard that!” came from the kitchen and she smiled wickedly before leaning forward as much as she could without pressing the edge of the table into her belly, and whispered, “That was the idea. Not that I didn’t mean it. Hell, I’d do him too. How the hell have you two been able to keep your hands off each other?”

He laughed. “Don’t ask me. He’s the one who set the rules. If it was up to me I’d have bent him over the couch the first time I set eyes on him.”

He snapped his mouth shut and blushed when he realised what he’d just said but she just laughed and rubbed a hand over her stomach. “Please stop. Do you know how long it’s been since we had sex? You say things like that and I might just explode.”

“Winifred!” Gunn came in from the kitchen, wearing pink rubber gloves covered in suds and holding a blue sponge that left a wet trail on the floor. “Will you just… You’re making me look bad! And you!” He pointed the sponge in Liam’s direction, mindless of the drops flying across the table. “Keep the gay porn away from my wife. She does _not_ need another kink.”

She slapped his arm away, grinning. “Another? Who says it’s a new one?”

“Oh god.” Gunn turned around, flinging his hands in the air so soap and water sprayed on the walls. “I’m scarred for life!”

“This from the man who likes to wear women’s underwear!” she yelled back then laughed at Liam’s shocked expression. “I’m kidding! Although…” She smiled wickedly. “He does have a bit of a kink for leather.”

“Winifred Burkle!”

“Oops?”

Fred giggled insanely as she tried to ward of Gunn’s wet rubber-gloved hands tickling her mercilessly, until she grabbed her husband by the neck and pulled him down for a loving kiss.

Liam watched them with a huge grin on his face. He felt better than he had in a long time. Almost… hopeful.

\-----------------------------

Spike stepped out of the cab and looked warily at the building in front of him. When Liam had called and asked if he’d like to have a drink after work his first instinct had been to say no. But something in Liam’s voice made him hesitate and when Liam told him where they should meet, he understood why. He still wasn’t sure how Liam wanted to play this. Was he supposed to wait out here until Liam got off his shift in about five minutes or should he walk in and ask for him? Or was that assuming too much?

Finally he decided to just walk in. He could always say he was just looking around. He glanced at his distorted reflection in the shiny red paintwork of the fire truck. He’d gone for jeans and a red shirt over a black t-shirt, hoping it looked casual enough and not too… well, gay. And how much did he hate himself for even thinking like that? For a moment he contemplated turning around and leaving but just then Gunn came out of a door on the left side of the big garage. As soon as he spotted Spike his face split in a huge grin.

“Yo! Spike! Long time no see. You looking for Liam? He’s in there.” He inclined his head back to from where he came.

Spike hesitated but then nodded curtly and walked to the door. At the last minute he paused and looked back. “How’s the wife? I hear she’s about to pop.”

Gunn grinned even wider but Spike could see worry creep into his eyes. “Sunday’s the big day. Wish me luck.”

“All the luck in the world, mate.”

“Feel I’m gonna need it.”

“You’ll be fine. All of you.”

Spike gave him a reassuring smile before turning back and pushing the door open. Then stopped. Six guys were sitting at a big table, playing poker from the looks of it, all of them staring at him in surprise.

“Er… hi. Liam around?”

There was silence for half a heartbeat and then a tall dark-haired guy he remembered from the diner having lunch with Larry, pointed toward a door on the other side of the room. “He’s changing. Hey, Liam!! Someone’s looking for you!”

“I’m coming!” Liam’s voice sounded from the other side of the door. “Tell him to wait!”

Spike nodded and leaned against the wall. “Who’s winning?”

“I am,” answered the dark-haired guy with a grin, tapping the fingers of his free hand on top of the table. “I will rule you all!”

“Like hell you will,” said a lanky guy with a goatee who Spike guessed was Jesse. “I’m beating your ass.”

“Maybe we should keep the ass talk to a minimum, guys. Wouldn’t want to embarrass our guest.”

Spike looked up to see Larry standing in the doorway, the grin not matching the contempt in his eyes. “Speaking of asses…”

The grin turned into a scowl and Larry took a menacing step forward. “What did you say?”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I thought you were talking about donkeys.”

“You little...”

Larry started to move across the room, the rest of the guys getting up from their chairs – whether to stop him or help him, Spike wasn’t sure – when he was swung around and slammed into the wall by a furious Liam.

“Didn’t I tell you to leave him the hell alone?”

“What?” Larry snarled. “He your boyfriend now?”

“Shut up! He’s a cop, and as such he deserves your respect.” Liam banged Larry’s head into the wall again, even harder this time. “I’ve told you and Lindsey’s told you and still you don’t seem to get it. You stupid, Larry? You that fucking stupid?”

“Get off me!”

Spike shook out of his stupor and crossed the room, grabbing Liam’s arm. “Come on. He’s not worth it.”

Liam ignored him, leaning forward until he was inches from Larry’s face. “Don’t think I don’t know who torched his car,” he hissed. “I’m watching you, Larry. I’m watching you like a fucking hawk. Remember that.”

He banged Larry into the wall one last time for good measure before letting go of him and then turned around to face his colleges. “That goes for the rest of you as well. Are we clear?”

“Chill, Liam. What the fuck has gotten into you?” Jesse stepped back as Liam shot him a glare. “Alright, alright. Not like we were gonna do anything anyway. What the hell do you take us for?”

Liam breathed out and then swooped down to grab his jacket that he’d dropped on the floor. “Let’s go,” he said to Spike who could only follow with a wary glance at Larry and an apologetic shrug to the rest.

Spike waited until they were a block away from the station before looking up at Liam. “Did you tell me to come here so you could put up a macho show for me in front of your mates? Because if you did it was foolish and I’m not impressed.”

“I didn’t…” Liam clenched his jaw. “He wasn’t supposed to be there. He swapped shifts, alright? But I’m not sorry anyway. He had it coming, the stupid asshole, and you might not like it but I’m glad I could do it in front of them. Not because of you being there but because he’s been disrespecting me and my authority and like hell if I was gonna give him an excuse to say I’d attacked him for no good reason.” He breathed out. “Plus it felt fucking good.”

Spike nodded. “Just as long as you didn’t set it up.”

“You really think I’d use you like bait just so I could show up like the big hero and save you?”

“Erm… yeah.” He raised his hands in defence as Liam glared at him. “I’m sorry but it wouldn’t surprise me if you had. I have a feeling you’re rather desperate for my approval.”

“I’m not desperate!”

“Ok. My mistake. Pining then.”

“I’m not…!” Liam took in the grin on Spike’s face and smiled sheepishly. “Ok. Maybe you’re right. I still wouldn’t have done that. I mean, if I hadn’t been fast enough he could have beaten the crap out of you. I’d never risk you like that.”

“Oi! I’m not a weakling. I can take care of myself, ta very much!”

“He bench presses over 300 pounds”

Spike hesitated. “Ok, maybe I could have used a little help.”

“That was all I meant.”

“You better have.” Spike gave him a smile. “So why did you ask me to meet you there then?”

Liam blushed. “It was Fred’s idea. She thought it would be a nice way to show you I’m not ashamed to be seen with you.” He took in the look on Spike’s face and quickly added, “I would have come up with it myself. It just might have taken a bit longer.”

Spike gave it a thought. “Alright. She was right. It was nice. So what? We’re best buddies now? I mean, that what you told them?”

“I didn’t tell them anything.” Liam worried his lip. “I mean… I wouldn’t have had to explain it if it was anyone else so why should I have to explain you?”

Spike wasn’t sure what to think of that.

“I mean, that’s what we’re aiming for, right? Acceptance. Right?”

“Of me or you?”

Liam swallowed and stared down at the pavement. “I thought we’d start with you and work our way to me.”

There was silence for a while and then Spike gave him a smile. “Sounds good to me.”

“Ok.”

They walked for a while and then Spike cleared his throat. “So… I was wondering… I have this gig with Lindsey’s band on Saturday. You want to come?”

Liam looked at him and Spike could see the old jealousy flare for a moment before it made way for confusion. “You’re singing? Wait… _Lindsey_ sings?”

“Don’t sound so surprised. He’s pretty good in fact. And the music’s alright even if it’s a bit…”

He grimaced and Liam grinned. “Country?”

“Don’t rub my nose in it. Yes, country. Although it’s actually more rock and if you laugh I’ll bloody well punch you.”

Liam zipped his mouth shut but it still didn’t keep him from grinning. After a while he asked, “He won’t mind? Me coming, I mean.”

“He told me to invite you.”

Liam stopped and turned to look at him. “What did you tell him? About us.”

Spike rolled his eyes to hide his frustration. “I told him we’re friends. That’s all. Not that he would mind.”

Liam stood still for a moment before nodding and they resumed their walk. They were almost at the bar when he suddenly asked, “Are we?”

Spike gave him a confused look. “Are we what?”

“Friends. You and me. Are we friends?”

Spike watched him for a while and then he nodded. “I think we’re heading there.”

Liam breathed out, the smile he gave Spike filled with relief. “Good. That’s good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I haven't updated this one in almost ten years but it is still on my to-do list, I promise. I have more stuff written, I just don't have enough to finish the story. But I will, one day. I love these guys too much to abandon them.


End file.
